07-15-2017, 04:01 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take Kylin does exactly as Ivar commands. Still torn between exhilaration and terror, the young stallion follows her closely, wading through the shallows until he can stand beside the filly. The full moon that has risen overhead has blanched her lavender pelt so that she seems almost to glow. The ethereal impression it creates does nothing to calm the storm of emotions within the scaled colt, and it is all he can do to keep himself from stepping forward when she gasps. IVar wants to hold her tight, to squeeze the fear away with his embrace, and reassure her that she is safe. He can’t though, not when he is the one that had made her fearful in the first place. She’s spun to face him and he is shifting his weight from side to side. He looks both ready to run and ready to stand, waivering from one to the other as she watches him with wide and questioning eyes. She knows it was him. Why else would she stammer the question? Why else? “I…” he stutters as the dune behind him breaks open. “I didn’t mean to. I don’t know how, I didn’t, I…” The first hatchling turtle crawls free, and one by one its siblings emerge from the sand. They race toward the sea but Ivar has eyes only for Kylin. She’s going to run from him, he knows. Run back, across the sea to Ischia. He will not blame her, not when he’s used…whatever it is this is, against her. His brown eyes are dark with concern and worry, but he holds himself back. He wants to move closer so desperately, but he is very sure that it will scare her away even faster. |