 I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take When the strangers had left (taking their dis-quiet with them), Ivar had returned to the bottom of the seas to the north of his island. He has stirred little in the time since, rousing himself only to hunt and occasionally to prowl through the jungles of his home in search of a woman to occupy himself for a few hours. Yidhra and Evia have been avoiding him – a sign he’s come to know means they are in foal and uninterested in his advances – but the pair of roans are interesting enough to pass the time, and there is something especially satisfying about feeling the kick of his child in Chryseis’ belly. She’d been as compliant as he ever could have wanted, and the scaled creature considers slaughtering her simply for the satisfaction of it, the way he had Breckin. As the kelpie grows older he has grown less cautious, and the skulls he keeps beside his trove of treasures for Isobell grow ever more numerous. It is her he seeks this cloudy winter afternoon. Her scent has grown cold in the seaside cave where he most often finds her; even Svana is nowhere to be found. Ivar has prowled the breadth of the island and returns to the cave unsuccessful. Irritated, he kicks at a few of the brightly colored shells, crushes some of the marvelously shaped corals beneath his hooves. These are treasures he has brought her from the sea, but what good if they do not keep her here where he can find her? He brings her the little clownfish she likes (even though the anemone stings his unscaled nose) and he crushes the spiny shells of the urchins before he leaves them, and yet she has the audacity to not be here when he wants her. The audacity to leave even, he has begun to suspect. He breaks the pale walrus skull with a slam of his front hooves, even though (perhaps especially because) Isobell liked the way the barnacles had formed sort of a crown along the top of it. Wading through the ankle deep water at the mouth of the cave, he emerges into the sunlight and scowls at the horizon. He’s going to have to hunt her down, he thinks, and drag her back to Ischia kicking and screaming. A lot of screaming, he decides, enough that she thinks twice before leaving again. that if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind |
@[anyone who wants to be around ivar in a pissy mood I guess lmao]