Here’s to the lives that you’re gonna change - Chryseis, family

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

It would seem that Leilan has been busy to say the least - and not with Breckin, it would seem. As the children clamor and fuss, she tossed her son a bit of a frown, followed by a cocked brow and a shake of her hammer head. He entertained them well enough, but she struggled to see either her own or Hestoni's influence in his parenting style. And that was not a bad thing of course, because her style lended itself a little too strongly to the hurting-their-feelings clause. Hestoni had always been the loving counterpart in their marriage, but only his direct children would ever understand the stoic way in which his mighty love manifested. In his absence of course, there was no chance for their children to feel his love...

But now was not the time to get caught up in her own sins and the absence of one she had spent decades alone with.

A third child approached, another colt, and Scorch greeted him warmly with an immediate ruffle of his forelock. In the presence of so many children, the aged mare could barely keep up with their words or their names, but had an instinctual pull to mother each and every one of them as she would her own. In this way, she did not worry when Chryseis stepped for to gently place the flower in Blue's hair, for she trusted all of her descendants to get along at least decently well in their youths. Ophanim needed a little time to get warmed up to the idea of his grandmother, Scorch could tell, but she couldn't blame him - without a little warning, the sight of the crispy fried rat was admittedly ghastly.

It made her the best one to tell ghost stories, though.

When Breckin arrived, it was of no surprise to Scorch; she'd glimpsed the Khaleesi's heat signature some minutes ago, observing from some ways off. She did not let on about this however, instead turning with a big, god-help-us-in-the-swarm-of-these-children grin and a press of her muzzle to her friend's shoulder. "Hello, Sister." Meeting Breckin's gaze for just a moment, the grandmother then turned to watch all her children, stepping carefully closer to Blue such that the younger girl could take refuge near to her mother's barrel if need be.

"Before you all go off to bother Breckin about her spots - something I find relatively inadvisable as I have tried myself and failed many a time - I want you all to know that you will always have refuge here in Nerine with me. You may call me Scorch or grandmother, whichever you wish, but no matter what, I will take care of you in your times of need."

Quieting, Scorch settled on to her haunches to observe the rest of the proceedings.

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

@[Blue]

[Blue]

is it drowning if you can breath underwater?//find a better quote

Before anyone can answer her question, yet another foal joins them. She watches him approach, unfamiliar to her, but he looks kinda like Leilan so the filly assumes it’s probably another nephew. It seems Leilan might be the kind of brother who has lots of kids her age, which is weird. She’s a little more interested in Chryseis, bearer of the flowers, and she smiles briefly at the other filly and murmurs a ‘Thank-you’ for the flower before her attention is redirected by Leilan responding to her query, and so she flicks a dark-tipped ear to him instead.


He announces that he thinks her other brothers are probably boring compared to him, and she giggles because his grin is contagious. Blue can’t necessarily agree (Maertin and Qaen certainly weren’t boring) but she also can’t disagree without more investigation. Leilan has not, after all, yet proved to be fun. Or interesting – she knows the opposite of “boring” isn’t necessarily “fun”; it could be “interesting” or “scary”. It bears further inquiry. He suggests a game, counting Breckin’s spots, and she turns to start counting automatically, because she’s competitive. They may be competing to be favorite children, but she could be his favorite sister.


Chryseis guesses at the number of spots, and Ophanim claims the game is rigged. Blue doesn’t like the way he’d treated Chryseis before (he was mean), so she flicks her little tail and gives him a narrow—eyed look. “Maybe if you don’t know that many numbers you don’t deserve to be the favorite,” she says archly, and smiles at Chryseis. “I like guessing. I think 115.”

@[Thorgal]