The sickly boy (his otherwise beautiful body riddled with feathery tumors and hard, twisting pustules) seems to be undeterred by my attempt at creepiness. I just wanted to scare him a little bit. Instead, he seems to light up, exclaiming with eyes that are wide and brimming with excitement—the exact opposite of what I had been going for. My gaze narrows until I can see the shadow of my lashes in my vision, black lips pinching indignantly as venom floods into my mouth, preparing to spit at the little vermin. However, my poisonous temper tantrum is derailed when another voice suddenly cuts in.

Yellow eyes flash to the other colt, and I can feel annoyance sneak quickly into the lines of my expression. I want a dragon as much as anyone else—they are the companions selected only for those with equine blood, only the most noble and ferocious of companions for the elite. The chosen race. “Dragons are glorified monsters, but monsters all the same,” I declare with an admiration and greed that mirrors the ember-bellied boy’s. I’m so distracted by his soft flames—my eyes appraising every haloed muscle and movement—that I don’t even realize it at first (the growths, the disease).

Still, even I can swallow my disgust when a far, far more important situation arises. “Kid?” Brother’s name escapes my lips in a desperate breath, the annoyance draining from my features as earnestness and determination flare in my eyes. “Who’re you? How d’you know Kid? D’you know where he is now?” I fire the questions at the younger foal, taking a step towards him with unblinking eyes. While my twin might be all charm and smooth poison, I’m a damned wrecking ball. I don’t care who or what is in my way, and I certainly don’t give a damn for charisma—

—interrupted again.

The muscles in my jaw flex as I clench my teeth together. There’s another one now; a boy with tanned-honey skin and crystal blue eyes. I can appreciate his unmarred beauty, but I’m not in the mood right now. Not even close. “Sister?” I spit, though it’s hardly a question—to be frank, I don’t really care enough to dig into the word. What right does this stranger have to address me with such an intimate title? (HAHA little do I know about my father’s family jewels and how they’re handed out like cheap souvenirs). But I digress; my title as sister has only ever belonged to Kid, as far as I am aware, and I hold that bond sacred.

My ears are pinned by now, though they raise at the sound of my father’s name. Tangled curls dance around my face when I turn my head, yellow eyes locking on the red stallion I had noticed (read: glared at) earlier. “Volterra is—” I pause briefly. Saying ‘my dad’ aloud is still really weird for me; it doesn’t feel easy or comfortable, so I continue inelegantly: “I’m his daughter. I don’t know who these pinheads are.” My chin is thrust towards the boys. It’s only now—yes, only now—when I realize that, hey! We all have skull-like markings! And so does the black beast of a father; maybe we all could be related after all!

(Ding ding ding, nice one Sabre).

I roll my eyes at myself, already missing half of what the tree has said before I realize that the plant is talking. The word ‘reward’ is what ultimately seals my attention, because let’s face it, I’m a selfish bitch; I’m not breaking my back for free. “I’ll do it,” I say to the tree-creature-thing, snapping my tail around my hips before pivoting. Snatching a small branch of berries and seeds, I walk back to place it on one of the stumps that the tree had created. Darting back into the bushes, I search for the ember-bellied colt, nudging his shoulder not-so-gently when I find him. “How do you know Kid?” I’ll repeat the question until his ears bleed.

I need to know.
I need to find my brother.


notes; Speaks directly to @Tyrath @Astarot @Cowboy
“Speech.”
Seeking a dragon with either fire breath or shock breath! (I can't decide at this moment ;-;)
No prior refusals.

Light the fuse and burn it up

take the path that leads to nowhere.