your social skills resemble arson

Having served as Warden of Terrastella for so many years, Israfel found that even with her promotion to Regent, the desire to patrol had not waned. Then again, why would it? Not only had these patrols been hammered into her brain on a regular schedule since her arrival into Novus years ago, it was only right to want to continue to patrol and guard their borders, to keep her home safe.

Even if it included the damnable swamp.

Unable to get any of the Halcyon away from their duties this time around to go trudge through the muck of Tinea, Israfel bitched but departed the city to go drench herself in bog water in the name of ‘protecting the land she loved’. Someone had to do it. At least if she did it herself she knew the patrol would be done right.

Solaris glided through the crisp night air a few paces ahead, her body lit up in burning flames to illuminate their surroundings and chase away the darkness. The Phoenix’s piercing lavender eyes cut through the obscured scenery, skimming the shadows that danced within the trees and winding pathways upon peat moss and through stagnant water. The steady croak of toads and chirp of early winter insects echoed lazily through the otherwise quiet evening, but Solaris knew that any manner of creature could hide amidst a place like this.

With the new changes that spanned Novus, they couldn’t be too careful. Israfel picked her pace cautiously, not even trying to keep the white of her coat clean as she descended into squelching mud that pulled at her hooves with every step, the shit-brown muck nearly swallowing her up to her knees. Determination kept her from becoming stuck, each step powerful and strong, her wings spread wide for balance and flames curling upon every feather. Like her bonded bird of legend, the Regent was aflame, allowing the pyromancy given by her godly father to help slice through the darkness of night.

Night.

A frown pulled at the Sun Daughter’s lips as she thought of Denocte. Damnable, terrible Denocte, with their secrets and conniving, mysterious ways, with their whining and moaning and bitching over anything and everything. Ever since the pathetic reign of Reichenbach and his consort Isorath, someone that Israfel herself had once considered an ally and a close friend, the thought of the Night Court had left a bad taste in her mouth. Every venture to their eastern counterpart never helped to soothe her vast dislike for the nation.

It wasn’t that she wanted to dislike them, not at all. While she didn’t understand a whole lot as far as politics or cultures went, the Regent knew that everyone was different. Not everyone had to get along, but with Denocte…

Her frown deepened, brows furrowing and vermilion eyes narrowing as she pushed it from her mind. Now wasn’t the time.

Ivory ears flicked forward as she rallied herself and the fires that surrounded her, expanding the flames and spreading the resulting light even further into the dense foliage around them. Despite winter’s grasp having snared the land of Novus, not even the elements could seem to steal the thick canopy and dense vegetation from the swamp’s claws. What a pity.

’Do you see anything?’ The question was asked mentally, through that special shared bond between equine and mythical avian. Solaris gave no physical indication that she had heard over than a quick glance back over one spread wing.

No. Not yet. But I smell something.

Immediately the Regent was on edge. She knew that Solaris did not mean the stench of decay, the sour smell of stagnant water, or the general earthy ambiance that hung heavily in the air like a poor choice in perfume. It was different. Lighter. Floral.

Incense. Recognition bloomed in her mind within a second, and immediately the Sun Daughter’s ears tipped back to be lost amidst strands of ivory and gold as a growl escaped her throat before she could stop it. The stench of Night Court cut through the filth of the bog, but Solaris’ following curt reminder caused the brief tension in her muscles to loosen.

Be nice, child. You are more than you were a season ago. Remember your place.

Indeed.

Sucking in a deep breath, the ivory dun rolled a sleek, slender shoulder but kept her wings spread out, the flames burning hot and comforting against her skin. She pressed on with Solaris as her guide, but soon enough a pale stain broke through the darkness, the flash of ivory standing out like snow against a backdrop of black.

Slender white legs stuck out at first in the firelights range, catching Israfel’s burning hot gaze. Her eyes roamed upwards upon every nimble curve, cresting thighs, the barrel of a side, up a slender neck until she spotted the pretty face and ice-blue eyes of the mare that did not belong. Not one for stealth, not that it even mattered given the beacon of their shared light from the fire that licked at their bodies, Israfel merely arched a brow and called out, one leg cocked almost casually. Her rose-kissed lips twisted upwards in a knowing grin.

“... A little lost, friend?” Oh, but this stranger wasn’t a friend, pretty little white thing that she was. Not even the ichor of the swamp could mask the stink of Denocte that clung to this pale lady’s hide, and wasn’t that just the most unfortunate thing this week.

Solaris slowed her glide and whirled around, her wings spread wide and beating the air with illuminated wings as she crested around to take rest upon Israfel’s croup with large, sharp talons. The Sun Daughter did not even grimace as those talons dug into her flesh. Her eyes remained locked upon the pale lady in the middle of the swamp, in a land that was not her own. Be nice, Solaris’ reminder echoed in her head, and Israfel inhaled deeply, be nice.

“Can’t say that I’ve seen that pretty face of yours in this swamp before.”

Be nice. Oh, but she could be nice.

"Speaking."