[open] Sweet speak with a mean streak; any

[Warlight]

Warlight

 

It hadn't taken her long to settle back into the rhythm of living, not with her new, plague-free body. 

After emotional reunions with three of the most important individuals in her life, Warlight was starting to wonder if there was anyone on this island (not island anymore, she corrects herself for the eighth time) that she didn't know. 

If the sun wasn't setting she would have followed her impulse and sought out some of the more long-term residents, or even hunted around for more of her family that could be lurking, but she decides it would be better to wait for dawn. Sneaking up on her new king or queen in the moonlight may not be the best way to introduce herself, and she decides instead to take the night to herself and visit a tempting spot that had caught her attention earlier. 

After her return to the land of the living, the bay-splashed mare found that the cold seemed to sing into her bones in a way it never had before. In all her childhood years spent in Hyaline, she could barely remember ever being cold. But now, the mild autumn chill is threatening to send a shiver across her sleek body. 

A few minutes at an easy canter bring her to a place where streams of water and lava intersect, and the antlered mare find a place where the stream is just hot enough not to burn her. With a sigh she sinks into the bubbling water, her tense muscles relaxing as it wraps itself around every part of her.

— soul as sweet as blood red jam —