the joy of fire and pain

[Kushiel]

It's a child. Can't say I'm all that great with children. The few I've met I've tended to treat like miniature adults, and apparently most mothers don't like that. Something about cursing and mentioning whores in casual conversation. I do remember being a child though. It's not that I've lost touch with that part of me. I simply don't have any other reference except the way I felt as a colt. All I wanted as a child was to grow up and be on my own. I wanted to be taken seriously, not cooed at or awed over. Not that my mother did that. Nature and my mother were my parents, and she wasn't above letting me learn that fire was hot by touching it. So to speak. And as for having my own children. I suppose it will happen. I don't feel an urge procreate, although I do enjoy sex. Why not? It's a diversion, even if temporary. The silver colt's eyes are gold, which is unusual, but his curiosity isn't. "We talk." I respond to his first question. It's the most obvious question, but adults are usually full of tact and his first comment is their third or fourth. Doesn't bother me. I prefer that kind of candor. "I focus on what I want the flames to do, and they listen. Or not. They're temperamental." I swish my tail and the flames respond by blazing into a white hot heat, and then settling back into a sulking huddle on my left hindquarter. I nod curtly at his pronouncement of the Chamber. I'd heard of it, and I was sure I was here, but this is my first visit. "That's a mouthful of a name. I'm Kushiel."