07-08-2018, 02:36 PM
 I V A R promising everything i do not mean |
Their interaction had been brief, but the kelpie reads Deiti’s invitation without issue. He meets her cerulean gaze as she is leaving the conversation, and holds it with his own metallic gold for a moment longer than necessary before turning to say his farewells to the group as well. The smoky black mare is headed north and slightly east, to where the molten heat of Tephra warms the channel that separates it from the rest of Beqanna. Ivar follows her from a distance, keeping her a dark mark on the horizon as he moves across the endless plain of shallow white snow and dead golden grass. Ahead of him, the peak of Tephra rises out of its omnipresent steam. The wind is from the east, and it carries the thick scent of sulfur out to sea rather than toward him, and Ivar is grateful. He had enough of that on his single journey to the volcanic kingdom a few years ago. His shadow is growing long ahead of him by the time the piebald stallion reaches the water. The water splashes against his scaled fetlocks as he tests the temperature, and then he dives in forefeet first. From a standstill to a jump, the motion would be insanity for any equine, yet the tail that splashes the water a moment before he is entirely submerged suggests that he is certainly something more. That much is obvious beneath the water, where a finned tail, webbed hind legs, and a pair of finlike wings propel him effortlessly through the current. Ivar movements are most reminiscent of a crocodilian hunter, and indeed: as he appears in the water beside Deiti, there are even sharp teeth glinting behind his white lips. Those lips do not inspect the curious curve of her finned tail as they long to, but there is clear interest in the stallion’s golden gaze. The kelpie recognizes his kind without hesitation, and is not concerned with how the gawky child he had once known has become the enchanting creature that he now pursues. She had said she lived in Ischia, so keeping her does not seem as if it will be too difficult. The ease with which she slips through the water appeals to his most primal instincts. He does not close the space between them in the lukewarm water, instead choosing to keep a distance between them that she will have to close with intent. Ivar is appropriately wary of kelpie mares and has the scars to prove it. |
I know my lies could not make you believe in my dark times, baby this is all I could be . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . |