Fire Hazard [Marche/Audun/Open]

[Marshmallow]

Marchelute winced and groaned, folding in upon himself on the forest floor. He panted through the pain, and clawed his way a few more desperate feet before another spasm clouded his mind over. The fire within him surged, scorching the grasses and the soil beneath him. He grabbed hold of a tree trunk, talons scoring smoldering gashes through the bark as he tried to gain his footing. Wings beat uselessly against the air, before falling slack and trembling at his sides. Mumbled apologies and denials and denouncements were hissed through clenched jaws, but it was no use. No matter how hard he tried, he could not fight the change.

It had been building for some time, that was nothing new. The change came and went with the same fanfare of tension, muddled thoughts and restless urges every time. Usually he caught the signs, locked himself away in secluded safety, behind walls of reinforced concrete, steel and protection wards. But sometimes... Sometimes, the shift came abruptly, unpredictably, despite all attempts at precaution. Sometimes something would trigger it early, some stress or another would be just a hair too much, and he just couldn't help himself. In those times when he couldn't make it home, he could at least throw himself as deep into the woods and as far up the mountains as he could, before his skin split and his tusks grew. His howls of agony split the air in places only the birds would hear him.


The ground still sizzled where the change had taken place. Heat-shimmer still warped the air, and ashes flaked from the burned-out husks of the trees. Thin wisps of smoke threaded into the air to mark the ifrit's passing. Huge paws scraped through the undergrowth, a shaggy mane smoldered with latent heat and power, and great tail thrashed logs and saplings into splinters as the Beast stretched its aching body.

The pain was quick to fade and be forgotten. Transformation was hungry work, after all. Now was the time to hunt.

[qhostqrowls]

Hunting in the forest was a slow process. It was nothing like hunting in the arid expanses of the south, where he could run down his prey with ease. Even the mountains were better - he could stretch his legs in a sprint on the narrow ledges, could climb after more agile prey. But here, with the low lying branches and snagging roots, he needed patience and a flawless ambush if he wanted success. It was that or to stalk through the dirt on his belly.

He was doing the former of the two for the sake of dignity, reclined high in the boughs like a leopard. His tail trailed down the trunk and pooled among the roots as the day wore on. He was in a half-lidded doze when the shrieking started.

The drakes head snapped up, claws hooking deeper into the bark. There was smoke rising - fire. He did not rise to investigate. The howls continued for some time, and then, they stopped. Their absence was almost more concerning. Audun scented the air for blood, but the sour scent of ash and smoke stung his nostrils and revealed nothing.

There was something coming closer. Something hulking and tusked and with a smoldering mane and wicked claws. He hunkered back against the trunk from his perch at the sight of the beast. It was large, and if the screams and the plume of smoke in its wake was anything to judge by, not likely to tolerate his presence. He watched it as it neared, perfectly still, his eyes reflecting the distant flames and shining like molten gold among the leaves.

[Marshmallow]

The ifrit's lumbering gait meandered among the thick trunks as he mindlessly sought for signs of prey, unaware that his journey was being watched from above. Leaflitter and forest plants darkened and crumpled as Marchelute shouldered his way through the undergrowth. Although no open flame was to be found, the immense heat radiating from his scaled hide was enough to scald leaves and bark, resulting in a charred and steaming trail through the forest. Gradually the intensity of it was fading, and soon the scent of embers and brimstone would be left behind him.


That lingering odor of smoke and flame was perhaps what kept his watcher from being found as Marchelute moved beneath the boughs of a particular old tree. He might have passed by entirely, oblivious, if the wind hadn't shifted. But a turn in the breeze swept away the smell of char, and brought a new and curious scent right past the hunting ifrit's nose.


The beast paused in his tracks. The great head tilted skywards, nostrils flaring to take in the odd scent. The smell of something different, something alive. And so he turned, plodded back toward the tree, paced around the vast trunk and nosed among the gnarled roots for more morsels of the scent. Claws upturned earth and moss as he searched, rounding the trunk until at last he came upon something of interest: A root that wasn't a root.

He lacked the conscious mind to deduce that the fleshy thing he found was, in fact, a tail belonging to a much larger thing. That mind was smothered, lost in a foggy half-dream. There was only the mind of an instinctive predator, an animal. And the animal had found something it could bite. So, it did.

[qhostqrowls]

Audun watched the beast lumber past with a hawkish, wary interest. The heat emanating from it wafted upwards as a dry blast of hot air, and he craned his head to follow its progress as it passed him by. There was a short span of relief at the avoided scuffle - and then his heart sunk as the large predator stopped, scented and circled back.

It sniffed and rooted around the base of the tree. He flattened further and hoped it would be too heavy to climb up. The tree was massive and wouldn't break under the other creatures weight, but it didn't have the look of a climber. Too sturdy and broad chested. But you could never know.

He only noticed his tail was trailing down amid the roots when the beast took an interest in the limb. It was too late now to move it up - the creature would certainly notice the movement. Hot breath washed over his skin and he tensed, narrowed his eyes, willing it to move on.

It did the exact opposite, and bit down, hard. A shocked, snarling hiss of pain came from the leaves and then the drake exploded out of the tree, aiming to land heavily on the ifrits shoulders. His jaws were agape, and he snapped at the broad snouted face of the other - a quick, slashing jab, trying to force it to snap back and release his tail. Its teeth hurt and his tail was thin enough that he was afraid it might bite a section off entirely.

[Marshmallow]

The limb wriggled in the grasp of the ifrit's jaws, though before he could pull back and thrash it to pieces, a snarling mass of teeth and claws collapsed upon his shoulders. Stout of body, thick with muscle and dense bone, the weight of the drake was but an afterthought to the beast. A thick mane protected his shoulders and neck from the flailing thing's claws. He only flinched when fangs flashed before his eyes, snapping across his muzzle. Reflexively he released the tail, jaws parting and lip curling in a vicious snarl.

The beast tossed his head, attempting to jab or otherwise dislodge his sudden passenger with his horns. When that proved ineffective from such an angle, the great head lowered instead, and the beast began to shake. As a canine might to free themselves from clinging water, the ifrit shook and thrashed himself until he was free of the snapping thing clinging to his shoulders.

[qhostqrowls]

The drake leapt from the others shoulders, the violent shaking causing him to land more heavily than intended. Curved claws dragged deep furrows through the dirt as he came to a stop. He whirled to face the larger creature, bloodied tail lashing and jaws parted in a furious, snarling hiss. There was a building heat in his throat, and when he roared a challenge there were sparks on his breath.

It was clear that he intended to fight - every inch of him bristling and taunt. It took only a heartbeat for him to assess the curved horns, the mane, the barrel chest and the tapering tail of the other. There was another angry hiss, a brief flash of fire from between his teeth. A fluid charge - not for the face or the scaled flanks, but for the wings. Membrane was easy to tear - the softest part, other than the eyes, that he could reach.

[Marshmallow]

A challenge was bellowed, the air rippling with heat and dotted with sparks. The ifrit responded in kind, turning on the spot to face down the rapid charge of his opponent. He reared upright, balancing on his hind legs and heavy tail with wings half flared. A circle of runes branded upon his chest began to smolder with a sickly green light, and he let out a roar that shook the trees. The bass sound reverberated down the mountainside, and a terrible heat glowed from deep in his throat. His challenger was not the only fire-bringer in this fight.

The slender drake darted in to strike at his wings. As soon as he was near, Marchelute dropped back to all fours, slamming down with his entire body weight in the effort to catch and crush his challenger beneath his talons.

[qhostqrowls]

There was a terrible screeching as the Ifrit slammed to the ground. Auduns back legs were swept out from under him, the breath knocked from his lungs. A beam of directed flame was aimed at the beasts face even as he scrambled to sink his curved talons between the plated scales of the chest and the neck. The heat from the runes was blistering, but of no threat to the drake - flame was not something either of them were affected by.

He was more agile than this hulking creature - but less bulky and unarmoured. His tail whipped forwards in the same movement, again aimed for the eyes, or at least the face.