07-04-2017, 12:11 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take Though he’s willing to follow her lead, (better position to guard from, to keep watch) Ivar readily takes up the challenge of race, childish enthusiasm overtaking the muffled thoughts of a herd-leader. Kylin knows the jungle better, and Ivar keeps only a pace behind her, trusting her knowledge of safe footing rather than his desire to win. He bumps against her every now and then – gently and only because they are moving so near the other, never enough to leave her unbalanced. Their speed muffles the sound of her heartbeat, but the steady pattern to her breathing suggests that she is holding herself back. The tall colt sees the opening in the jungle ahead, where the greenery will break open onto the sandy beach. He can find his way from here, he knows. “Catch me if you can,” he says, stretching his head toward her to run his pale muzzle along the lavender slope of her neck. The enthusiasm of travel that thrummed through him has been overtaken by the joy of running, and as he tastes the seasalt of Kylin’s neck his touch is equally infused with desire. It’s not a passionate or burning thing, just his genuine wish that this adventure might last forever, that she’d stay with him, his to keep and protect and treasure forever. The hypnosis is brief and fleeting as their contact is broken. Ivar races forward, head held low as his focus narrows to the opening in the path ahead. He doesn’t know if he wins their race, but he draws to a stop in the glistening red sand. Breathing heavily, he turns to grin at Kylin. He eyes are out to see and he follows them readily. He sidles to the left to stand beside her, pointing to a distant point in the sea. “That way.” he tells her, “Where the River meets the ocean. You run, and I’ll swim.” Eager, he steps forward. The sea is warm and dark as it laps at his pale legs, and he readily wades deeper. “It’s not too far,” he promises as a wave crests over his white withers. “You’ll love it.” |