10-01-2017, 07:15 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
The residents of Loess are not plentiful, but that makes it all the easier to recognize them. This foal coming toward him is not someone familiar at all, and Ivar twists his dark ears forward, his soft pink nostrils flaring to better catch her scent. He is wondering if she is someone’s child – but then, had he seen any pregnant mares this winter? – but before he can be certain he catches the familiar musty smell of his own childhood home. She is coming from the south, after all, where the Loessian hills meet the Sylvan forest. Ivar has not been to the golden woods for two years; he is curious what brings this young filly out. Ivar does not have to wonder long. She is lost, or at least looking for a better idea of her location, and Ivar is reminded of his own youthful forays. He’d come to Loess when he was not much older than this girl, and while there are no visible similarities between the two of them, he feels a small sense of camaraderie with the bold teal girl. “You’re in Loess.” He tells her, seemingly unperturbed by the casual way with which the young child has strolled into the kingdom. “Is this where you’d meant to come?” |