It's said she's made of storm cells
and a wild wolf's hungry heart

He seemed so interested in her, so intrigued by her and her magic. It caused a pride complex to begin to grow in the chest of the filly, and she puffed the buckskin tones of her breast out like she had seen Thranduil do – pride emulating from her to the flames flickering upon her spine. They licked out like fingers, morphing and shifting into lions with long flowing manes of flame. His voice rumbled to her and her ivory rimmed ears cupped to him as her gaze studied his face. Then, he was quiet, studying her. Normally, the filly would’ve been a bit self-conscious over the entire ordeal, but this was different. This was invigorating, exciting, entrancing. She stayed quiet as well, watching him in return when he began his next question. Kiada simply shook her head, but this time not letting her shame get the better of her.

Erebos continued to grin and Kiada continued to stuff her chest out like a proud bird. She had explained her lineage, excited in her prosperity and prospects of the royalty that swam through her veins. The little child didn’t understand the concept of being only half royal, and perhaps one day she might know, but for now she was blissfully ignorant. A beautiful little fool in a world of so many opportunities. He stood and Khairi found himself bounding away from his bonded while he did so – as if to stand back and admire the filly as well. For her aspiration reverberated to the bird and the vulture would be damned if the filly didn’t end up doing what she said she would – he would make sure of it one day. Then, his maw parted and he began to speak once again. “I’m Erebos, and I’m a prince.”

Kiada’s jaw dropped slightly as she tilted her head, the little horn situated in her brow catching part of her growing white forelock with the movement. So many questions ran through her tiny skull, wondering who his father was and just what kind of prince he would be. Part of her thought of the stories her mother had told her from where the Thief hailed from. Where princesses were to join princes, and peace were to be created because of such unities. But Kiada was far too young to understand love and the means of war and sacrifice. One day, she’d learn. But today she continued to play the fool. And she found a smile crossing her pink splotched lips as excitement raced through her pulse. “You’re a prince?” She began, her voice enthusiastic and electric. “Who’s your dad?” She asked, bluntly. As far as Kiada knew (aside from Romina and Ru’in) those of royalty had fathers that were kings. For her father was a king, so it made sense, right? “My dad’s the King of the Edge!” She began, shifting and wiggling her tuft of a tail in her excitement.

But the stallion paused, beginning another set of questions for herself and she listened desperately like a person starved in the desert searching for water. Yet, the question he uttered caused her to retrieve her head to her chest as she put away her prideful display – hanging it up for later use as she contemplated her thoughts. “I – I don’t know…” She admitted. The filly hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead yet, but she began to run the scenario in her mind. Her and Kianzo on top of the world, looking down to those that looked upon her for guidance. And suddenly, she began to think of how much joy would fill her breast. But joy wouldn’t be enough to rule, no. She wanted to be the gentle side of the iron fist that was Kianzo. She wanted to be the yin to his yang, where brutality was his forefront and forgiveness was her own but not without reason of course. She would give many a chance and if they failed her, they would be answering to her. And it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. So she imagined the feelings that would sit in her chest then, a mesh of many. Joy, pride, confidence, and finally decided her answer.

Looking up at the colt, she grinned with a stone face upon her onyx skull. “This.” She turned slightly, allowing for easier view of the animals as they flickered in the flame. The lions stayed, but more began to grow. Otters began to shift in places, swimming and spiraling in the air above her spine while griffons began to shift in other places, wings flapping to match the keenness of their feline counterparts. And there she stood, as if she were a queen. With courage as lions and lionesses merging along her back, with otters that swam and jumped with joy, and griffons as an unbearable force of confidence as they hovered over the playful otters and the ever watchful lions.

"Talk."

that she's learnt the lightning's secret—

to ripping darkened skies apart.

Kiada