07-06-2017, 07:54 AM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take His presence in the field could easily be called recruiting, but Ivar is more frequently here to satisfy his own curiosity than out of any desire to add more members to the kingdom of Sylva. The urge to build a land, to rise to power – those aren’t interesting to the young stallion. He wants to explore and to learn to fight; his goals are simple. This winter trip to the field is such an exploration. Ivar is standing in the open, letting the soft wind play softly against his scaled hide. The pearlescent glow of the piebald stallion’s white scales against his matte black is bold in the watery moonlight. He is young and tall, and would be striking even without his kelpie inheritance. Still, his is clearly other with his too-handsome, scaled physique, and for a while it keeps him away from the small black amre. He has been watching her for a while, long enough to have caught the scent of a land that is not Beqanna. He knows them all – his adventurous heart is also a well travelled one – and she is not from any of them. Not Hyaline or Nerine, and definitely not Tephra. His dark ears flicker in the dangle of his black mane, and his pale nostrils flare as she begins to dig through the snow in search of food. She’s coming a bit closer, he notices, and decides that he might as well take the plunge and stop acting too curious from a distance. “Hey there,” he says, moving toward her through the thick layers of snow. It forces him to raise his legs high, stepping carefully to avoid an unseen poor footing before the white. “I’m Ivar,” he tells her, pausing a comfortable distance away (he does not want to compromise her personal space). Offering her a friendly smile, he asks: “Are you new here? To Beqanna, I mean?” |
ooc: welcome to beqanna! you're doing great :)