Perhaps the filly should have cared more about her actions than she did. Obviously, there would be some explaining to do to Kianzo if he were to see them, but she was prepared for such an endeavor. After all, no matter how much she loved and admired her brother, she liked to think that she had the brains of the two. She imagined herself as the one that brought the ideas to light, to prove to Kianzo that even if her magic was useless, she could harness her mind as a weapon. And that’s precisely what she would tell him; play it off as though she was using this mental weapon against Ru’in for information. Of what, she didn’t know just yet. The idea was totally false – she just wanted to spend time with Ru’in, but she’d never admit to that with her other half.

She remembered the bronze butterfly he had created, when her flames took on a different beast entirely. And oh, the feeling was so foreign and so right, a feeling she craved every time she saw the mutated boy. She was like an addict, craving the drug that he provided, and suddenly she began to wonder if he endured the same idea. It was hard to tell, as she stood in front of him flirting and waiting while his eyes proved to avoid her. Surely this had to work, right? As she glanced back over her shoulder to him, he didn’t say anything. However, when his dual toned gaze landed onto her spotted (and scarred hide) the feeling began to return. Flickering in and out of the griffons, foxes loomed ever closer to replacing the winged beasts.

But Kiada had been practicing. And while Khairi decided his meal was better set elsewhere and promptly took off from her to a nearby branch, the blood remained. There were minor scars along her spine from the vulture, little bits and pieces she didn’t mind so much. But it was the larger one along her shoulder, and one that was placed precariously on her hip from the griffin attack that made her feel a bit more self-conscious than she had previously. She was sure the scars would fade, but they were dark with patches of thick fur missing from the harsh winter that she hoped wouldn’t detract from her trying to get her fix.

When he finally replied, that deep voice rolled through her ivory tipped ears. She nodded to him, beginning to head into one direction less populated, aiming to find bones and clear out the brush that enveloped a few pieces of the beauty of this land. When she finally reached the area, Khairi had finished his meal and brought the broken pieces of bone to the pile that had begun forming. His idea was that if they were picking up bones, that he should at least be a little courteous. As he approached the two again, Kiada lowered her dark face toward the ground, stretching ink dipped legs into the undergrowth of the brush to try and drag things away and search for remains. “How have you been?” She questioned, eyes flickering to look up at him under white lashes. Her voice was lower than before, a deeper almost luscious tone. “Has the Basin treated you well?” As she tried to create a bit of small talk, her tail flickered behind her against her dark legs while the foxes continued to try and show between the lines of the griffins.

"Talk."

— she wears fire for skin,

but a storm lives in her soul.