She becomes annoyed with him quickly, snapping at the air in his direction and flattening her lobes against the back of her nape. “You do as you are told,” she spits, venomous in her tone. His words are pathetic to her, his little act is tiring. Usually, she would have played along, made a little jest out of his silly approach to the whole thing, but their mission here today is too important to make a laughing matter. Looking around, emerald eyes see that what was once burned is now back on its way up, making the revenge even sweeter; their land is vulnerable in its current state. A smile draws itself across her soft kissers , looking impatiently to Viserys she sees him do as commanded, tainting his white fur with ash. She does not comment, merely nods to herself in approval. Surely, the pale stallion would find this mission quite satisfying, burning up someone’s home. He is wicked like she, Keahi knows, for she has seen the way he walks and talks.

Ripping herself from her web of thought, the black vix starts to scan the area around her, muzzle pushing through the tall grasses to find something, anything that can help her on this mission. Lobes rotate slowly atop her skull, making sure to pick up any sound, should someone unwanted approach. Viserys walks up to her, and she gestures to him to help her look. She is not frantic yet, but she feels her heart pounding harder by the second. Surely, her Lord of Light wouldn’t leave her at a dead end like this; she can not believe such of him. Heavenly Father, please give me a sign, she whispers over and over inside her mind stopping to glance at the moonless sky. The air feels like it was vibrating, her skin crawls at the gaping mouths of the dark forest, but she keeps her faith strong and her composure cool. This is the ultimate test.

More venom spills across Visery’s lips, but she barely notices it at this point, too focused on her quest. The pale stallion is not half bad; she might even learn to see some pleasure in his company before this whole thing is at an end. The ebon hellcat diverts her gaze toward the sky. Just then, a beam of light darts from the sky, and she nearly howls for joy, knowing he has heard her prayers. Leaping forward, she dances over to the spot where the light has hit. She knows their time is limited now, for they couldn’t possibly be the only ones to see the strike of daylight in the middle of the night. There on the ground before her, she sees a rock, and an idea sparks in her head. Picking up the stone, she holds it firm between her teeth before rearing and slamming it against another stone on the ground. Nothing happens, so she tries again, managing to split it into two sharp halves.

Looking around, she goes and collects small shavings of wood, dry grass and pine needles and cones. Placing all of it by the foot of her chosen tree, she brings over the two pieces of rock. One is close to the kindling, held in place by a hoof. The other, she holds between her teeth, striking it against the other repeatedly. Keahi sweats, lobes frantically pointing everywhere, certain that she is about to be discovered. It seems like forever in her mind, but it takes no more than a minute or so, until the first spark catches on. Emerald eyes catch the hint of orange, and the obsidian banshee blows on the flames gently. She does not notice the wound on her lip where the stone has gnawed through her skin, or the blood running down her chin and dripping to the ground before her. All she sees is the flame.

The pine needles provide a flash of flame, burning quickly and sending the licking fire up to the dry branches of the tree. It catches, slowly at first, but soon it grows stronger, spreading. She sees little creatures of flame dancing along the branches, eating the leaves easily, jumping from branch to branch. Suddenly, the next tree is lit as well, and Keahi steps back from the heat. She is smiling, unable to take her eyes off of the marvelous flames, but forcing herself to look triumphantly over at Viserys. The heat of the moment completely washes away any plan that she has made beforehand, and when she finally turns to leave, she knows it is already too late. The fires have spread and it will only be a matter of seconds before someone will discover. That is, if they are not already on their way.

{ooc: The fire has reached four trees and is spreading fast. This thread is now open for anyone. No killing, lovelies ^^}

Smoke. It is a scent he wished to never smell again, a phenomenon he wished to never witness again, and it billowed from the thing which he hated - and feared - the most: fire. The acrid stench of burning wood, of life being consumed, infiltrated his mind, blown in by the breeze and through his nostrils. At first he thought it was a remnant of a nightmare, of figment of unreality haunting him as he pulled himself up from the thick heaviness of sleep, but he could not remember dreaming, nor find a cause for his waking. Blinking in the darkness that should have been compact, he realized that there was a little light, blotting out the stars to the south. Slowly, the monarch turned, head lifting up to watch the sky. Something dark and dangerous hung across it, a veil that brought a cold lump to his throat, an iron fist clenching around his belly and heart. Below it, there was light: flickering, orange and red, shimmering, casting his world into warm, dangerous shades. For a moment longer Mauja merely stood there, breathing in the night air which smelled more and more of sulfur, and watched the dancing shadows of licking flames. His forest was burning, again, in the middle of the night, and the first things that rolled in in wake of the confusion, was childish denial. It was unfair. It was bothersome. Why did it have to happen to him, all the time? His ears fell back against his muscular neck, and for a moment he toyed with the idea of discarding it all as a bad dream and going back to sleep.

But closing your eyes would solve no problems.

The downside of waking up was that his more accurate emotions kicked in. Anger. Fear. Mauja loathed fire, but not with the hatred that empowered him to charge in and stomp down the flames, but he hated it because it made him afraid, a cool of a different sort slithering through his veins like hungry, poisonous snakes. He gulped in a lungful of acrid air, and released it in a thundering bellow. Those who had not already wakened, would wake now, and without a care for the risk of pulling muscles the frost wraith powered into a canter, navigating the familiar terrain with ease. The heat of the fire lapped against him as he approached, burning away the tendrils of mist which otherwise obscured the ground, and Mauja's pale body was tinted with orange, lined in yellow. The moon-shadows across his pupils turned to the red of flames, and water trickled down the curves of his horn, pooling onto his forehead. "Seiren! Huyana!" he roared, calling upon the only ones he knew who had power over the skies. One could summon hail, the other rain; he hoped it would be enough, that they were here, that.. that.. that'd it save his blasted forest from burning down. Eyes began to water as he plunged through a drifting sheet of smoke, and then he came through it again, sliding to a halt to survey the damage.

Maybe four or five trees had caught fire, their branches burning, but it - thankfully - had a harder time spreading across the ground. He snorted, trying to clear his nostrils of ash, and when his gaze spun again, he found something most disturbing.

Interlopers.

At the base of one of the burning trees.

There was no need to put two and two together, he recognized the silhouette of one of them immediately. Slender, thin, bony, black as the night with eyes that shimmered like flames now - but he knew them to be vibrant green, sultry. He knew the curve of her back, the tail curling around her hocks, the arch of her neck and the horn upon her brow. A deep growl rumbled in the snowbeast's chest, and like a wolf he prowled closer, cast into shadow by the flames that flickered nearby, between them. With the whore was an equine, dark as she, and it only served to ignite the rage further. Pure, blind rage pushed the fear aside, and he skirted the few flames on the ground with ease. A familiar cold would seep through her body as the ice formed in her veins, but this time, he was relentless - vindictive. It would not serve as a mere warning, a taunting turn-off; it would serve its purpose of pain and destruction, trying to build as rapidly as possible, focusing on a few crystal. He wanted them to grow quickly, to faster tear the walls of her veins and not just chill her blood. With a monstrous snarl upon his face and a look of pure, cold-blooded rage in his eyes, Mauja crept closer, his body cooling rapidly with the use of his magic. The ice, he held it at the ready, mentally poised to strike. And, across the roar of fire, he roared, hoping that his pet was not far, which he rarely ever was. With the length of his dripping horn pointing at the hornless scum creeping here with the whore, he gave the command, relishing the rush of power, expectant of the results, for once freeing the Monster of the moral laws which bound him in the Edge.

"Drip drop!"
He wanted to see these pyromaniacs bleed.

She stands and watches the destruction that is her work, and a smile creeps upon her velvet kissers, flames reflecting in the depth of her emerald eye. Viserys speaks and she has to agree; the flame is a terrible thing, but its brutal power is what is so appealing to her. The smoke obscures her view and sense of smell, but she doesn’t have to wait long before someone joins them. His pale bod comes bursting through the heavy smoke, instant recognition of the king himself. She is surprised somewhat, that he is the first to arrive; she expected some of his guard dogs would be on their posts. Obviously that is not the case, and as he turns his head and spots her, she knows she’s in for the treatment. Fire is between them, but in the comparison to Mauja’s rage, they fade completely. As he comes closer, she dances delicately, not moving her eyes from his white form. Soot from the trees mix with the water streaming down his face, and with his maddened eyes locked in hers he prowls closer.

Branches from the burning trees start dropping, the fire moving to the grass for further fuel as the twigs turn to ash, fire spreading on the ground surprisingly fast. More trees give in to the flames, about eight or so in total, the treetops fully ablaze and the heat almost unbearable. All this, Keahi does not see, for in the same instant, she feels the chill returning to her blood. Teeth are clenched as the ice starts to form, cutting her veins even worse than what she has experienced in the Threshold. This time, she smiles at him, though her delicate voice is strained when she speaks. “Eye for an eye, King Mauja,” she says, curtsying mockingly before drawing closer to the fire. The intense warmth helps bring relief, keeping the ice from growing as large as was intended; they simply cannot grow to such large size at these temperatures. She does not concern herself with Viserys anymore, this is about her own survival. A gust of smoke cloaks her body, engulfs her completely, and she holds her breath, backing away further.

That is when others start to arrive. Keahi hardly notices, first it is a dark mare with a red mane, trying to kill some of the flames on the ground, though they are spreading fast. Next is a black shadow darting past, going after her companion with insanity in his eyes. A charred piece of wood falls from a tree and lands on Keahi’s rump, causing a burn and a wince from her. She feels the flames licking at her hooves and smells burnt hair, but the intense pain of the ice in her veins keeps her from doing much. She moves away slightly, her eyes watering from the fire, blood running in thin streams from her ears and nose. But fear is not within her heart; it never was.

[OOC: Since none of the magic-yielding fire extinguishers showed up, I decided to be bold and let the fire spread more. Eight trees aflame, fire spreading on the ground from falling branches.]

A deep, bestial growl rumbled in his chest, heat lapping against him - the night air danced and shimmered, things he saw not; he heard only the desperate crackle of the trees as they dry branches were set aflame, the pounding of hooves as a black shadow passed him. For a heartbeat he saw the intense flare of Monster's eyes, the mindless frenzy mimicked by the flames all around them. Within Mauja the cold lay, dark and deadly, helping to stave off the warmth, a situation oddly reversed from Keahi's. He could smell blood over the flames and acrid char, heard her mocking, strained voice, the squeal of her companion as Monster's black horn laid his shoulder open.

Crackling with ferocious energy, past the point of speaking himself, the maddened King crept closer, skirting the fire and falling branches. Like the Threshold.

"Hundkvikindi," he hissed, lips curling into a menacing snarl, ears flat against his sooty neck. He slipped around another sheet of fire, the flames licking up from a fallen branch. Terribly cold eyes watched it for a moment, how the smaller twigs curled up, steaming, blackening; glowing red-hot they were thrown up into the air, disappearing with the smoke towards the dark sky. He could hear death whisper upon the wind, promising pain, and yet no rain was falling - damn, where were the mares? How would this ever stop?

Growling, he set his sights on Keahi. She would not escape. He wouldn't allow it. Monster was busy tackling Viserys; he could focus on her.

A howl, a sound so different from the soft-edged King usually made, tore from his throat, shrill and hoarse as his body launched itself into motion. Hooves found traction upon the familiar ground, falling ashes swirling around his frosted feet as he sprang forth into motion. Powerful neck arched, horn leading the way to her chest, he charged. She would not leave. He would not let her get away. She would pay for this.

Mauja Frosthjärta

The scream of Viserys is nearly drowned in the roaring flames gaining ground, but she notices, turns her eyes to him for a moment to see a tear of violent red drawn across his hide. This beast of Mauja’s is in for blood, she knows and Viserys knows as well, but there is nothing that she can to do help him at this point. She is not surprised to see him turn and run; somehow she knew him for a coward, nothing but a loudmouthed show-off from the moment they met. He has not been brought along because the black vix counted on his assistance or protection ; his purpose is to remove some of the focus off of herself. Even so, she does feel her mood darken further as he is not attacked by the mad dog.

She turns her eyes back to Mauja, her voice strained and shrill against her will as she chimes. ”He is not the one you want. It is me you want, Mauja. It has been all along,” she says, the look in her eyes persistent and smoldering. The pale king speaks words in his foreign tongue, for obviously he is too scared of her sharp tongue to meet her on common ground. She cannot make out his hiss over the crackling of the flames, and as another piece of burning wood falls upon her back, she winches in pain. Her body is starting to shiver violently against her will, stressed by the intense heat and cold all at once, but she bites her teeth together and holds her head up stubbornly, though all instincts tell her to crumble.

His howl goes through bone and marrow, even more so than the ice in her blood which is slowly receding. When he bolts forward, it is unexpected, and she releases a piercing banshee’s scream of her own as she tries to veer off to the side. But she is not fast enough, her body crippled by the internal bleeding caused by the ice and the shock of the heat, and she feels his horn rip open her left shoulder in a deep gash. Another scream through clenched teeth, staggering as she sets forward, away from the fire and the safety that she had momentarily found there. Blood streams down her shoulder and colors her entire leg a bright crimson; by now, she has lost quite a lot of blood and feels lightheaded.

Then there is another, a rumble of galloping hooves coming closer, and she looks in the direction with glazed eyes to see a black mare charging. Sluggishly, she trots forward, but yet again blood is drawn as the mare slices her horn into Keahi’s right thigh. A grunt of pain escapes her as she feels the warm, sticky blood creeping down over her silky hide. She flings up her hindlegs uselessly, hoping to hit the black mare as she passes. Dishevelled tresses cling to her greasy neck, sweat turning her body damp as she puts more distance between herself and the spreading flame. Turning her eyes to the pale king, she smiles, knowing that the fire is speading still and even if they succeed in incapacitating her, it won’t stop the fire on its deadly march. Flames reflect in the glistening blood that taints her hide, and she chuckles, maddened.

[OOC: Fire in, let's say, 10 trees?]