i'll use you as a warning sign - Isobell

[Isobell]

Isobell

i'll wait for inside the bottom of the deep blue sea

She had expected a thousand other words to trickle from his lips. She had expected a sharp tongue and a searing gaze followed with names of the paltry and destitute that clung to his loins. She expected to feel him sling threats and dirty words of the women he kept to make her understand that she were very much replaceable.

She is turning away from him...

But-

His words tip toe over her lovely curves and drag their edges along the scales of her spine. She twists sharply when they have crept into her ears, silver eyes blazing a quicksilver fire. She stares at him hard, the space between them feeling thick, as she swallows into his eyes with unflinching impudence. Dare he strip her right now of her wary naivety? Isobell watches as the water collects and falls into the thirsty soil from his pearl and matte scales. She feels her own throat swallow at the way the salt water clings to the tender parts of his neck. She can feel her heart rattle it's bone cage but she stills herself with feral desperation.

"Take me away?" She is moving closer to him with a lifted head and her pale hooves drudging paths in the dark sands. Her words are mumbled softly as she looks into the depths of his eyes for a hint of wayward truth, of jest masked by a few simple words. 

But she knows that Loess holds his collection.

"I will not be added to a shelf, Ivar." She is close to him now, her words low and captured within the space between them.  She leaves the statement hanging, a warning, that she would not settle for the mere satisfaction of his shared company amongst his harem but she does not make her demands (yet). Nerine helped to keep her distance, to keep her guarded, to keep him and his activities at the edges of her mind.

But now...

Now, she closes her eyes and presses herself against him while exhaling softly. There was a tangle of many things within the painted mare and she wonders if Ivar was the master weaver. She lingers here now, hardly listening to anything more than the sound of his heart, enjoying the way she fit against him.

Silently, she damns the kelpie king and she damns her own self for feeling the flood of satisfaction within his embrace.