Tiberios
He’d just gotten back and already he needed time to clear his thoughts. Tiberios was getting physically sick of living in the confines of the Dale. What had once been a home and source of joy was now worse than the prison he’d been confined to during his captivity. Perhaps it wasn’t best to return to the meadow fresh out of jail, (it’d been the start of his problems) but he’d quit fearing things like death or torture some time ago. The indifference to just about everything is as plain as the giant burn scar that stretches across the left side of his body. The ugly, angry mark gathers curious stares but Tiberios had long ago learned to blur them out. What were they compared to the gift he’d been given for such a mark? They’d all gladly wear the same skin if they could wield what he possessed.
As if his thoughts had taken over, the familiar blue-and-white flame dances along his front legs - winding and gathering strength before spilling over his chest and giving him a flaming breastplate. The scorching blaze is brilliantly hot, and Tiberios welcomes it like a long-lost friend. Content with his new look he passes the rest by until there comes an area unpopulated. Here is where he makes his mark, letting the fire billow out from all four hooves to burn a perfectly medium circle in the earth. No vegetation or life remains. Only the hardened, melted crust of ruined dirt. He smiles at his work, lets the fire ring itself around his neck like a flickering chain, and turns his attention back to the throng, wondering if company would come his way.
TIBERIOS
White Fire manipulating stallion