my heart never stops beating for you; ivar

[Ivar]

I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take Augusta, she tells him. The name is not one he knows, but it sounds pleasant in his flicking black ears. It reminds him of heat, somehow, of warmth that is very much lacking on this cold winter day. When she comes closer, he remains still, knowing that in this icy season, it is often best if he does not make the first move. Others are warier now, without a fog of pheromones to cloud their senses, and he does not want to scare away the roan mare. He is cold as well, slower, lazy despite being above the water. The cold dulls the hunger, and the reminder that he has provisions in Loess is enough to make them equal – as much as is possible for a hunter and prey. Accustomed to being the cause of long silences (and often of uncertain or awkward ones as well), Ivar is not at all perturbed by the time it takes her to answer. If anything, he finds that her pause gives him more time to try and piece together the puzzle of her familiarity. It is futile, of course, but the way that she had repeated the name of the golden kingdom gives him confirmation that perhaps that is where he knows her from. So many of the memories of his childhood are blurred, a combination of time and willful ignorance. Luster though, that name is familiar. A pretty dark face, a bright smile that was somehow also sad. It is the very same expression that Augusta now wears. He had wanted it gone from Luster even though he was only a child, and he finds that he also wants it gone from Augusta. Ivar considers stepping forward, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes with a wordless command to not feel so sad but he refrains. He is not sure why he wants this, but he has never put much stock in emotions that are not useful. “I know Luster,” he confirms, “but I’ve not seen her since I left Sylva. I grew up there as well.” “We don’t have to talk about that though, if you don’t want to.” Ivar offers an alternate topic, taking a step to match hers so that they are closer, and the fog of their combined breath drifts out to where it meets the low-hanging clouds over the river. “Where are you living now? I moved to Loess, which is about as different from the forest as I could get.” Not as different as the sea, he does not add, but there are some things that are still out of his reach. kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis minimal grullo tobiano king of loess