12-21-2017, 03:09 AM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take The water overhead is clear, reflective of the cloudless autumn sky. Ivar floats on his back a half dozen feet below the surface, his pied body dappled even further by the shimmering sunlight as it passes through the warm water around him. Around him, the fish are starting to swim again, reassured by the creature’s lack of motion. The sand is still settling from his arrival, drifting down in ivory veils to the sea floor from where it had been stirred into a frenzy by flicks of the kelpie’s tail. He drifts, pulled by the gentle current in any which way, and he feels his eyelids begin to weigh more heavily. The awareness that he is drifting off to sleep rouses the kelpie, and he surfaces with enough speed to startle the minnows back to the safety of the coral beds below. He’s made it almost all the way to Ischia, he realizes as he orients himself with the bits of green on the edges of the horizon. He is on the far side of the island, miles from the sandbards that allow visitors access to the tropical paradise. Well, he supposes, perhaps it is best to be unexpected. By the time he stands in the shallows, it is on four pale hooves. The tangled cords of his thick mane are thrown back with a toss of his head, and the pale faced stallion eyes the dark line of the forest. The air is as thick and warm as the water, a stark difference to the cool chill of autumn that has begun to invade the rest of Beqanna. The reminder of the lack of seasons strikes him more firmly than before; perhaps that is part of the appeal of the island kingdom. The handsome creature does not step onto the dry land of the island, but nor does he call out for someone. He is curious about what Kylin had told him; was it true that the quiet island has begun to stir? minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus |
@[Krone] @ [Any one who wants to reply]