[open] One foot toward the gallows || Titus, Diplomats ||

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

The summer brought warmth to the northernmost kingdom, nearly mimicking the heat and humidity of Scorch's long forgotten Jungle. Of course, the lack of any dense forests fucked that image up rather quickly; but on the westernmost piece of Nerine, the pines reigned. Here was where the Amazon spent most of her time, able to easily watch who came and went through the bottleneck which connected the almost-island to the rest of the kingdom; and of course, the looming trees gave rise to comfortable feelings of nostalgia. When Brennen stayed with her, he brought music too; that of the Jungle's birds and cats, as he knew she liked the sounds.

He strayed more than she remembered the men she loved straying, however; and often she found herself awakening with only the crashing of waves to remind her of her loneliness.

Blue grew quickly these days, becoming increasingly independent as the year meandered through the months and thus the seasons. Soon enough her youngest child would be ready to face the world outside of her interference, which already was minimal in comparison to when a babe walks freshly at ones knees. The sensation of once again being alone left Scorch gutted and anxious, with far too much time for her to contemplate the exact moments in time when she'd managed to fuck up, and to fuck up again, and to fuck up again. The dead intervened when they could, sensing her worries and attempting to help the mare reconcile with the sins of her past; but they could not always be there for her, and so, she suffered.

What did she have left to tie her to this kingdom? What besides some children, a lover, and a queen whom she had practically hand raised? It felt like nothing, though she knew it to be everything. She wondered sometimes if the contagion which had spread had any mental symptoms that none were yet aware of; for although they lived in a plague-ridden land, she had yet to express any symptoms... And she doubted that that meant that she was free of its clawing fingers.

Appearing one afternoon from the depths of her westerly pine forest, Scorch made her way towards the border for no reason besides boredom. She longed for company, but felt as though she had no means of achieving some; so, when two specs appeared on the horizon and gradually became figures which landed astride her Nerinian soil, she smiled. She would recognize that yellow son-of-a-gun anywhere. As she approached, she thought pleasantly on the conversation they had once shared, meandering through Loess and at last to the warm pools where her skin received a well needed bath.

The other creature she did not recognize, though he had a familiar air about him; something about the small stature and the way his lips curled when he smiled spoke of other Nerinians, but not strongly enough for Scorch to draw any concrete associations. For now, the mare approached with a quiet call, coming alongside them after but a short time. Reaching, the ugly mare exchanged breath first with Wolfbane, and then with the stranger, a small smile touching her lips as her magmatic eyes scanned from one stallion to the other.

"Greetings, gentleman. Wolfbane, so good to see you again. What might I do for you today?"

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle