Birthing// Castile, Any

[Ivar]

I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take The kelpie hadn’t noticed the new mother’s defensiveness, but he does stop his advances as she tucks the twins closer to her sides. That was a clear enough sign, and Ivar hadn’t meant to startle her. He takes a longer moment to inspect her this time, from the tips of her pink ears to the fiery ombre of her tail. It had taken Castile a rather embarrassingly long time to find a woman, but Ivar does appreciate his taste. She’s a pretty thing, small enough to make a man feel protective, and Ivar has always been a sucker for a good pair of feathered wings. Castile's, he reminds himself, just as the mare speaks his name aloud. “We grew up together,” Ivar replies,“And lived together in Loess for a while, too.” It has been some time since he has seen the draconic stallion; years, he realizes. Castile must not live in Loess anymore, Ivar thinks;  why else would his children be born here at the River? “Where is he, anyway?” Ivar's amber gaze flicks up and down the length of the riverbank, but no familiar figure emerges. Why isn’t he here guarding his newborns? The kelpie, ever opportunistic, glances back at the trio that might potentially be up for the taking. Ivar has a history of snatching things out from under Castile’s nose, though he never means to. It isn’t his fault that Isobell had come on to him, after all. He’d even left her in Nerine and returned to Loess, content to live out the prolific life of a herd stallion. His sister might be a little different than his lover though, Ivar supposes. Best not make a move quite yet. “What’d you name them?” He asks instead, gesturing to the two curious heads that pop up from beneath the shelter of Sabra’s wings. making those promises that i could not keep in my dark times, baby this is all i could be