i know i'm not the center of the universe
-but you keep spinning 'round me just the same
The surprise in her eyes solicits a laugh from the dark colt, but it’s clear that he’s laughing at her disbelief and not at her. “Yes, swam.” He repeats, “and yes, I made it to the bottom.” He pauses for a moment, wants to be sure that she is really interested in the answer and not simply humoring him. Ivar is always – without thought – being the picture of politeness.
Then she turns away, looking out over the sands to where the jungle begins.
The air that plays with the ends of his black mane is warm, and he can already feel the water beginning to dry on his dark coat. The swim hadn’t tired him excessively, but the yearling is still happy for an adventure that will stress different muscles.
He follows her, picking through the sand on his long pale legs. Standing in the shade offered by the trees is no cooler than being out in the sun on the sand, and Ivar realizes that the reason his neck had stayed halfway between horse and water horse is because the humidity in the air had thrown off his senses. He is used to dry air and wet water, but the air here in the jungle is something in between. It is rather thrilling, he finds, and his dark eyes seek out Kylin’s accompanied by a bright smile.
“C’mon,” he says with a bit of a high stepping prance, the enthusiasm clear, “Let’s go!” The tobiano colt throws his head excitedly, gesturing to mean that he will follow her where she leads.
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