10-04-2017, 01:05 PM
He is quiet.
Too quiet.
Ichor grows nervous. Her wings shift and shiver and settle themselves against along her back and sides. She almost paws a hoof at the dirt until he pins her fast and hard with an intense look. It makes her focus wholly upon him and his face swims into sight better than before. He looks… cunning? Sharp? Interested? She hasn’t figured out that for a moment, it was almost predatory because he never wavered. But her focus on his face shatters the moment he straightens himself up to his full height and the light begins to glint off his scales again.
The opalescence of them is a delightful distraction and she almost goes to him, can feel the itch to get closer and trace her lips across each scale until she is satisfied that it is only light that makes and chases pearly rainbows through them. Nothing is like his smile though, something that her odd cheer brings out of him and she smiles back, unable to help herself. “Oh, true…” she mumbles, making the connection that most probably don’t easily observe the scales on their skin like she has or he has. Her own scales are similar in that regard; they can pass easily for soft downy fur.
Connections like this make Ichor like him all the more, that and his tolerance of her since he still hasn’t taken off running for the hills like she expects him to do any moment now. Instead he redirects the conversation from scales to gills and she tilts her head to the side again, not quite sure how to answer him. This part of her was so very new and she had never given it much thought until now, even though she was as much her mother as she was her father. That and the river kept beckoning her… How could she rationalize that innate fear of her gills failing her underwater though? He says it’s the best and that captures her attention and lets an answer spill out of her odd mouth;
“I’m afraid.”
It is as simple as that.
Or Ichor is that simple.
He’ll understand her answer on a very basic level but Ichor is afraid for her delicate wings, how will they hold up against the river’s currents? Will her scaly fur survive the plunge in the depths? What if her gills fail her and she drowns, sodden as she is, she’ll just sink right to the bottom and expire there. Ichor wonders if he has ever felt like this, but how could he? She isn’t aware that he is kelpie and dragon, just that he is bejeweled in brilliant scales of black and white that shine like pearls hidden in shells.
Too quiet.
Ichor grows nervous. Her wings shift and shiver and settle themselves against along her back and sides. She almost paws a hoof at the dirt until he pins her fast and hard with an intense look. It makes her focus wholly upon him and his face swims into sight better than before. He looks… cunning? Sharp? Interested? She hasn’t figured out that for a moment, it was almost predatory because he never wavered. But her focus on his face shatters the moment he straightens himself up to his full height and the light begins to glint off his scales again.
The opalescence of them is a delightful distraction and she almost goes to him, can feel the itch to get closer and trace her lips across each scale until she is satisfied that it is only light that makes and chases pearly rainbows through them. Nothing is like his smile though, something that her odd cheer brings out of him and she smiles back, unable to help herself. “Oh, true…” she mumbles, making the connection that most probably don’t easily observe the scales on their skin like she has or he has. Her own scales are similar in that regard; they can pass easily for soft downy fur.
Connections like this make Ichor like him all the more, that and his tolerance of her since he still hasn’t taken off running for the hills like she expects him to do any moment now. Instead he redirects the conversation from scales to gills and she tilts her head to the side again, not quite sure how to answer him. This part of her was so very new and she had never given it much thought until now, even though she was as much her mother as she was her father. That and the river kept beckoning her… How could she rationalize that innate fear of her gills failing her underwater though? He says it’s the best and that captures her attention and lets an answer spill out of her odd mouth;
“I’m afraid.”
It is as simple as that.
Or Ichor is that simple.
He’ll understand her answer on a very basic level but Ichor is afraid for her delicate wings, how will they hold up against the river’s currents? Will her scaly fur survive the plunge in the depths? What if her gills fail her and she drowns, sodden as she is, she’ll just sink right to the bottom and expire there. Ichor wonders if he has ever felt like this, but how could he? She isn’t aware that he is kelpie and dragon, just that he is bejeweled in brilliant scales of black and white that shine like pearls hidden in shells.
@[Ivar]