All mimsy were the borogoves;any

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

My dear little Sarkis, how curious you are. Since day one you were the best kind of trouble – all go and no stop. A good listener to be sure, but an even better talker. For years it seems you can blabber on, never missing the chance to get a word in edgewise. One day I’m sure you’ll have no trouble putting that to good use on the diplomatic side of things. And unlike your mother, you’ll be making your parents proud; they, at least, have the capacity of being proud of you. When Scorch was your age, well… There was no winning. Even now, Scorch still fumbles over whether Echion is proud of her accomplishments or simply disdainful and worried over the blood missing between them.

Ears twitching when a familiar, feminine voice pierces the general boom of things, the Khaleesi looks over her shoulder with something of bemusement and slight fear. This one really did inherit the crazy. Charred lips cracking into a smile at the thought, Scorch swivels her hips and crashes through the dense underbrush, ducking her head so as not to disturb the sloth in question.

Unusually affectionate – and pregnant – Scorch extends her naked grey neck to bump her yearling daughter’s jaw with the tip of her hard nose. Straightening, she swishes her tail in a slightly playful, slightly concerned manner. “Who’s today’s best friend, Sar?” She rumbles, smiling. However much prejudice she may hold against her daughters, Scorch simply cannot be cold towards her youngest today. Every other daughter got the hard treatment… And however unfair, Scorch has finally decided to at least try and be nice.

Wish her luck.

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle