Contently Rei's eyes scanned the island. Caela Insula. Even the name was appealing. There was no doubt in the pegasus' mind that it was a gift from the gods themselves.

"Whoah! Her heart lurched as she spotted a pegasus on fire. How in the world....

Rei's thought was cut off prematurely as she realized how the mare had managed to get herself into such a situation. Apparently the flames were her own. They did not burn her, but she was willing to let them burn everything else.

Seething she remembered the night she had spent putting out the fire in the meadow. The stricken faces of the animals who had been forced to flee from their homes came back to her mind. This reckless fool was about to doom creatures who called the island home to the same fate. What was her problem?

"Stop." The word wasn't the command that she had wanted it to be. It didn't ring out with authority, it was a panicked mumble. Rei's voice was inexperienced with having to carry the weight of a command, or anger for that matter. And now it was having to suddenly cope with the weight of both being thrust upon it.

"You! Quit that! Do you have any idea of what you are about to cause?" There. That was it. That was the tone she had wished to achieve.

Ears pinned back Rei barreled towards the traitor that threatened the island. Over her dead body would someone destroy the tranquility of the sky's island.

The child is far too strange for the bird's liking. Even upon her back -- where her hardened stare cannot reach him -- she can feel his body twisting, changing, morphing into something that it should not be. There really is no explanation for it, either; the Aztec had not known what the behemoth had been carrying in its pouch, just as she had not known what to expect when the babe rebuilt its own shell.

How is that possible? I saw you lying on that shore. I saw you die! Her exclamations are not as silent as she thinks, and the child -- who has taken up the form of a young hyena cub -- buries his face into his mother's pretty feathers. The peahen might not have come to realize that she now shares a bond with the trembling rougarou, but he is certainly aware of it. Unfortunately for the newborn, however, he has not yet begun to experiment with this bond, and is unable to plead with his mother for silence. His mind is left vulnerable to the vehement woman's attacks, and so he seeks comfort in watching her swaying wings. Unshifting brown eyes gaze at the beautiful things as he is berated for his own survival. She may not feel the same way towards him, but ever since his arrival into this world, he has loved her -- and will always love her -- with his dying breath.

Yet even with such a powerful feeling nestled between her wings, the peahen is ignorant of the boy’s true feelings. To her, his devotion is automatic; written into his very code like the genetic makeup of all living things. And so you should feel this, mictla. For without me, you would not have been saved. A stained neck twists itself so that a fiery orb can study her prize. “Do you know what you are, mictla? You are a vessel of death, just as I am one. We are omens, you and I. Miquiztetzahuitl. That is who we are.” The maiden turns to look back ahead, her jaw set and head held high as she delivers her charge with his first lesson. “I am cualneci-oquichtin. You are mictla. That is Nahuatl for ‘beautiful warrior’, and for ‘place of death’.” Her words are not as stern as they should be, and the Chieftess surprises herself with how freely she presents the abomination with information. Regardless of her uneasiness in knowing this, she parts her lips to carry on, having caught sight of something else that he must learn. “That is tletl, or fire. Do not touch that, for it-“ hurts. Her words trail off at the sight of the blazing tendrils, and her mouth sets itself in a frown. What is fire doing here?

Broad instruments move in swift, determined strokes as the bird flies closer to the flames. She reaches into the recesses of her cranium for an explanation, but her eyes find the source of the danger before her mind has a chance to explain. The hybrid’s stare heats up just as the air does, and a scream rips free from her vocal cords as she darts towards the emblazed figurine. “AURELIA!”

Her sudden shout stuns the hyena, and in response to his bonded’s panic he urges his bones to mold into something new. Spotted fur sheds itself until there is only naked flesh, but even that is quickly and smoothly replaced by a fresh layer of down. A tiny muzzle stretches out into a hardened beak, and brown eyes sink backwards until they are no longer set at the front of his face. Useless wings erupt from chubby sides while unwanted legs fold into the body. Near the end of this transformation, the rougarou chirrups in response to the beauty’s next chorus (which sounds something like, “HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE AROUND HERE”). He isn’t sure why the pretty lady suddenly yearns for the blazing mare’s blood, but he also doesn’t know much about his ferocious steed. What he knows for certain, though, is that the porcelain bird has felt his mother’s wrath before. Why this is so important to the rainbow right now is unknown to him.

The speeding vixen seems not to care about whether he understands her or not, just as she cares not for any of the others who have gathered here. They are merely side shows to what is about to be the main attraction. A wicked smile replaces the frown that dances on her parted maw. Let the meteor react to the rainbow as she sees fit.


words. "more words."

alan l @ flickr | subtlepatterns.com | larfsalot @ deviantart

Had the vixen ignored the others present here she certainly noticed them now. At the scorching wench's speech a plethora of emotion rises up to mix with her fury; the bird may hasten towards outrage, but the flicker of an ear towards her Czar indicates that she has received his words. As much as her skin itches to redirect another sort of fire back at the bitch, the color-stained warrior must admit that her leader is right.

Diving to the right -- which throws the squawking boy into the base of one wing -- the bird arcs back towards her lead. She finds her place beside him, lazily keeping her body there as if she has done it a thousand times before. The maiden may hold a new place among his herd, but that will not halt her desire to be closer to the top.

She casts a glance over to the stout little man. Her burning eyes may betray her suspicion, but her lips certainly do not. "As you see fit, Midas." The Aztec redirects her stare to that of a frosted boy, and her heartbeat starts to quicken. What is one so young doing out here? It is a dark curiosity that she possesses; one filled more with distrust than with genuine interest, although the feeling is not directed at the colt. "As soon as that tzitzimitl makes a move on the boy, though, do not expect me to remain by your side." Her words are cool, but the Chieftess wants the hovering man to know that she will strike as soon as the girl does. She doesn't care that the painted man is trying to reason with the explosive firecracker down below, and she certainly doesn't care whether he will find her act treasonous or not. The bird yearns only for an excuse to tear a pretty white strip off the shrieking lass, and an assault on the child is just what she's looking for. Make a move, ichpochtlaheliloc. I dare you.

In all of the peahen's intensity she seems to have forgotten all about the boy who sits between her churning wings. His fluffy white face twists from one side to the other, focusing his stare on one screaming female to the next. He doesn't know what to make of the white one; the one who burns like the sun. All that he knows is that she is dangerous, and he is uncomfortable with the fact that his mother wishes to touch her. Kill her, more like. Yet even in the chick’s uncertainty of the Aztec’s intentions he knows that he will be safe. Perhaps he is being too assuming of her character. He doesn’t know the pretty lady very well, after all. His flightless body shivers at the thought.


words. "more words."

{tzitzimitl -- demon
ichpochtlaheliloc -- young evil woman}

alan l @ flickr | subtlepatterns.com | larfsalot @ deviantart