It’s midwinter, but the cold is not so terrible in Sylva. The ever present canopy of leaves keeps the heat from escaping, and the coolest it ever gets in the dead of winter is a cool 35°F. Today is a bit warmer than that, but even so there is no climate-based explanation for the reason that Ivar would be sweating. No, he’s been running, and early morning warm up to the mock that he and Nyka have planned.

Limber and still breathing lightly, he follows the scent of the silver bay mare until he finds her. They’re in a clearing with plenty of room to maneuver and springy fallen leaf footing. The area is clear of rocks and protruding roots – overall an excellent place for two novices to mock.

Ivar bobs his head in greeting, but doesn’t break the silence with words. They’ve both been waiting for this test of their skills. Part of him wonders if Akkadian will be watching, but the thought of an extra pair of eyes does not deter him in the slightest.

The piebald colt positions himself opposite of Nyka, facing the older mare directly. His head is turned to the right to give him a better view of her. When he moves forward, it is at an angle, allowing his left eye to stay on the mahogany mare. He moves at a quick trot, closer, closer. Ivar seems ready to pass right by her, but as his hindquarters pass her left shoulder, he attacks. It’s a quick buck to the side, his hooves aimed behind her elbow.

He does his best to follow the teachings that have been drilled into them: stay moving, quick blows, light on your feet. The tall stallion doesn’t hesitate, but instead pulls his feet back under him as quickly as he can, pivoting sharply to the right on his forelegs to keep an eye on Nyka for her oncoming attack.



kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis