11-04-2017, 11:24 AM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
She is still cautious, Ivar realizes. It is interesting, and makes her all the more intriguing. They’re usually half way to the water by now, starry-eyed and compliant. She is not, and the hardness of her orange eyes heightens his curiosity. Every once in a while, he comes across one that will offer him a fight. It is not frequent, and so is all the more tantalizing. Is it her age, he wonders? Both too young to be tempted and too naïve to know exactly why they feel wary of the charming stranger? She’s a little younger than Aena had been, he thinks, though the similarities between the two otherwise are minimal. He could tell her more about Nerine, how he had run down its shoreline as a child with his friends the prince and princess, how is mother is the queen’s mage. Those details might reassure her, might cement him as not a danger. Sharing them would be simpler and probably faster, but Ivar has an empty afternoon ahead of him and no reason to rush. “The water’s just as cold though,” he replies with a shrug, pointedly ignoring her shiver. “I prefer the hot springs when it’s this cold out.” It’s the truth; Ivar dislikes the cold immensely. “Do you?” He meets her gaze squarely, and the flecks of gold in his warm brown eyes catch the fire. He speaks as though he knows she has experienced the Loessan hot springs, and is simply inquiring about her thoughts on the matter. He treats her like an adult rather than a child, and for a moment he makes no effort to further his own motives. Ivar has not seen Isobell in a few days, and the idea of breaking this filly as a replacement for the iron princess is suddenly appealing. |