i'm on the wrong side of heaven; any, scorch

[Warship]

i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell

A macaw screeches from somewhere in the dense foliage: intruder!. The horse below ignores them. The leaves of the ferns hiss as they skim over the horses black coat, but the horse pays them no mind. There is a resolute expression on the fine black face, and velveteen lips curl ever so slightly in what could be considered a smile. There is an air of mystery clinging to the new comer, and she relishes it. She slips in and out of the shadows as if she belongs here. Like the native jaguar, she moves without fear or reservation, and with a quiet sort of danger about her. Outwardly she is entirely normal; plain black coat, though it shines with good health. She sports a long and tangled mane and tail, and her forelock hangs so far down her face that it will tickle her nostrils. Her skull is wickedly carved, showing clearly the fine strain of Arabian from which she stems. There are no white markings to blemish the dark canvas. She is a dark spot hovering on the edge of a colorful landscape, and she knows that soon they will find her.

Inside, however, is the heart of a warrior held tight by a magician. Her blood pumps in accordance to his whims, and she knows this. She knows if she were to deny him, he would severe those ties in an instance. She owes him everything. That is why she is here, in disguise. That is why she lingers at the edge of the jungle, idle but for the occasional flick of her tail. She would do as she was told, for more than her life depended on compliance. Others lives- children and friends, a livelihood.

warship

ooc - so yes, it says warship, but its not, m'kay? XD

[Scorch]

Wait but who is it then? *confused*

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

Yes, she remembers the night-crawlers very well. Kagerou, the original leopard-sister; Vyx, the midnight-fox; Myrina, elusive and calm; and of course, the children, a literally tiny army of shadow-embracers. Having been around for three decades, Scorch is not unfamiliar with the genre, though she must admit that each individual is a recipe with different ingredients. Sugar, spice, and something nice; or in these cases, nasty.

Tall are the trees of this land, and taller yet the shadows they cast. The Arabian hides well in their midst, but the animals do not mistake her for shade – though well they might, considering the shadow-bending sisters. A macaw sounds the alarm, alerting the Jungle-dwellers that a stranger sneaks among them.

Raising her thick hammer-head from the raingrass, Scorch’s nostrils flare. An otherland scent greets her, further increasing her curiosity, and her guard. Moving quickly, and quietly, the Khaleesi approaches the onyx creature. Few minutes pass before the two unite, one delicate and fine-boned, the other brutish and mighty.

“State your name and business, trespasser.”

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle