NIGHTFALL - - bonfire

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P H O B O S  .|.  S U S U R R U S  I N F E R I  .|.  D E I M O S

It was the dead of night and a fire blazed out in the sands near the wastes, a great bonfire fed by the fire dragon - for Deimos was something of a pyromaniac - or one with a love of fire, made of the burning light as he was.

Two slitted pairs of eyes stared out into the flame as though it held all the answers - stoking it if it blazed lower than before as the night waned on.

Across from the crimson dragon rested the icy spectre of Phobos and curled against him the ink dipped form of Susurrus - the two had long since fallen asleep watching Deimos and his blaze, for once at peace.

The vengeful one smiled fondly, no doubt the peace would be intended upon soon enough - but hopefully whoever it was would have some thought for waking the two - they did so rarely have a moment of restful sleep.

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[j a c k .]

there were no need for fire in the pitt, jack had thought. since his appearance in the sand dune's to join a place such as the pitt: he had seen nothing more than a torch fire, and the reason were obvious. ruins of ash still stained the desert even as dust storms a many ravaged the above ground that the pitt had once called their camp.

Fire brought with it a lot of bad memories for the older members that still remembered. aine couldn't stand it- or at least couldn't stand the ones that had started the fire before he joined. He knew other's felt the same, if only by the sight of the three lumbering newcomers being the sole occupants near it. jack never liked fire, he much preferred ice: it were the better element, fire wrought destruction and consumed without reason beyond to fuel it's internal heat.

jack was no afraid of fire, and beyond this hasn't seen much of such a large pyre of it: so call the marauder curious for the reason. but he was there, curling in the flickering shadows before he stepped in the projected light. his fur like a bright beacon in it's reflection. eyes contrast to the red and brazen warm colors, jack were nothing but a cold fellow in appearance: even if he proved with his personality to be quite differ- as long as you were on the right side of him.

but still, there was a silence, and jack felt wrong to break it. he prowled out of the shadows of the night and stepped towards the dragon- the cause of the fire he assumed, his two companions slumbering not far off. jack regarded the other in the silence before returning his sights towards the fire. "quite the sight"

[DANTE NORTHWEST.]

[glow=white,1,400]SO JUST GET BUZZED AND STAY FUCKED UP ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Dante was no stranger to fire, especially considering how that's how he ended the lives of the scientists that had abused him in the past - that, and the fact that he had to keep something with him to keep his cigarettes lit. That being said, however, the hybrid was surprised to smell smoke out in the desert and was concerned at first - until he investigated and discovered that it was something that had been set up deliberately.

"Any particular reason for this?" Dante rumbled from behind Jack, his head tilted slightly in confusion as he looked up at Deimos - whose name was escaping him at the moment, whoops.[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

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P H O B O S  .|.  S U S U R R U S  I N F E R I  .|.  D E I M O S

Deimos knew of the burn scarred area of the Pitt, he’d flown above it many a time.

That being said he hadn’t bulked at making the bonfire for the three of them - it was folly to remain scared of something forever, and besides, this blaze was his to control.

Emberglow eyes slid to jack at his entrance - the chilly kodkod often made him think of Phobos when he’d caught glimpses of him below his patrol routes, if only for the superficial reason of both having icy powers

Maybe they’d be good friends about it, hm.

He inclined his head with a soft rumble ”indeed” of course then another voice joined them, unfamiliar to him though he’d seen him about and the red drake shifted shrugging ”I need a reason to enjoy something beautiful?” he asked quietly - before he offered a slight bow of his head to both ”Deimos” as an introduction

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[trojan g.]

Sweeney had not been there when the fires had rampaged the Pitt's jungle territory, though she knew of it and knew of the trauma it had left behind, specifically in Aine's mind. This fire made Sweeney think of the vixen, and made her wonder if she'd show up simply to freak out and stammer over words, though that wasn't something she would wonder aloud.

Listening to the soft crackle of the fire, Sweeney had come over to the slowly growing group, her ears pricked as she looked over those there, trying to listen to the words that had been spoken, the answers that had been given to the questions that had been asked. She couldn't think of anything to add, she enjoyed the warmth the fire gave, it was different from the scorching heat of the desert in some sense. More homely.

THERE ARE RULES AND THERE ARE STRICTURES

[DANTE NORTHWEST.]

[glow=white,1,400]SO JUST GET BUZZED AND STAY FUCKED UP ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Dante shrugged in response to Deimos's reply, agreeing with his words. "Suppose you're right." The hybrid hummed, deciding to sit down and make himself at home - even if he wasn't particularly invited. "Dante Northwest." He grunted next, seeing as Deimos decided to introduce himself.[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[gael]

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♛ GAEL Ó BROIN

If only the fire that raged through the jungle had been the only fire his family had seen -- fate had not been so polite and the vulpine narrowed his eyes briefly in thought at the sight of smoke.  Into the night it was, the Imperator knew his daughter to likely be asleep.  This fire, controlled as it was, would not bother her.

As for Gael, he decided to trot towards the dancing flames -- finding others gathered already.  Taking note of two sleeping forms, the faerie found a place to sit by the warmth in silence.  Thoughtfully, his ears perked, considering the words spoken but offering none in turn.

The wind caller could permit that fire had some beauty, though it would rarely be subject in his paintings.  He lacked a fear of fire, despite his harsh history with flames.  While disastrous a fire may be in a forest, it carried the future in its wake -- permitting the new to flourish from the ashes of the old.

Although the faerie carried immense grief due to the fire that tore his home apart; the flames themselves, lit for heartless revenge, did not deserve his hatred.  The weight of his fury would bare down on the fire starters -- those who utilized the element purely for its ravenous destruction, rather than to further the natural cycle of life.

The Imperator tilted his head, memories of that peaceful cottage drifting in the embers.

"I AM A STONE" —-- gael ó broin / faerie / imperator / lamby