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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    Like a flower waiting to bloom - Kypria, Ivar
    #11
    Kylin remains in a playful mood, and Ivar resumes his absent minded tracing of her back. There had been times in the past when the lavender mare was overcome with sadness, but Ivar has done his best to help Kylin keep those emotions at bay. He doesn't know that her mind skips to Kyveli, the ombre yearling. She is not the only young resident of their western island; Raul and Santana are likely out wandering as well. For a moment Ivar wonders how they all get along - if they get along at all.

    "Oh, I'm the best teacher," he replies without missing a beat. "But you were a good student too."

    The disappointment on her face isn't unexpected, but the kelpie watches closer, ever wary for the moment she might begin to slip into sadness. He pulls her closer for good measure, his chest pressed against Kylin's purple and white side.

    "There will be plenty to show her in a few weeks," Says the stallion soothingly, his chin resting against her opposite shoulder. "What is your favorite part of the island?" Distraction is often an effective tactic, Ivar knows, and its never bad form to inventory his assets. "We'll show her that first."
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    #12
    It is not that she does not remember her sadness, or all the events before Ivar had found his way to her again, but most of it is left in the past. She mourns for their loss, but her life does not revel around it any longer. Little does Kylin know that she has had help with that. The lavender and crème woman likes to believe she has moved on from the past instead.

    Ivar makes it almost impossible not to.

    His reply has her laughing softly, the sound might have been harder, if she would not have to worry about waking Kypria. Instead her muzzle find his shoulder, which she playfully bumps before daring to nip lightly. “You are both a show off and a smooth talker,” she amusedly mumbles under her breath. Not that Kylin is really complaining.

    A soft sigh escapes past her lips as he draws her in. His chest is solid against her side, keeping her grounded. Soon his voice, and questions, take her mind elsewhere, away from the disappointment. “You really have to ask?” she replies with a smile, and a twinkle in her warm hazel eyes. “We’ve been to all of them.”

    From the secret pond she shared with Kharon, and where Ivar had learned her how to swim, to the flower fields that are well hidden between the thick jungle like vegetation, and of course she shouldn’t forget to mention the nest where the colourful parrots reside.


    @[Ivar]
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    #13
    While the piebald stallion is not an expert at visually aging children, he's fairly certain that their daughter has been weaned. Kylin's scent has returned to the one he knows best, and as the kelpie runs his muzzle down the length of her neck, he is glad. Kypria had needed her, but the blue and gold stallion has never been the best at sharing. To discover what he had in Kylin only to have it locked away with her pregnancy had been infuriating.

    Ivar doubts that Kylin is aware of this at all - he'd done his best to keep it from her. He'd taken out his frustrations on the nubile young queen of Nerine, distracted himself with the spotted Breckin.

    Now though, there is nothing to worry about. He will not be depriving his child of nutrition if Kylin were not to wake after the hunt. The hunt. The need rises quickly and suddenly, and the gentle caresses he'd been placing upon Kylin's lavender hide become sharper, hungrier.

    "I want you," He says quietly into the curve of her ear. Their daughter still dozes in the cave nearby, but she is old enough to be left alone. Nightfall will come soon, and Ivar doubts she will wake before dawn.

    "Let's go for a swim," Ivar suggests, taking a step away from her. Closer to the water, which he can hear crashing on the shore just out of sight.

    @[Kylin]
    so basically what ended up happening is I started to write a short closer and it morphed into this, where the situation is exactly the same except now Kypria is magically almost a yearling instead of a newborn and we've time jumped lol
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    #14
    With a smile she watches her daughter grow. She is no longer the newborn, damp filly, but instead a growing girl. Taller, stronger and definitely a lot more curious. Kylin has been looking forward to this moment, but at the same time die dreads it. Kypria too does no longer need her on a daily basis. Yet, at the same time it offers both of them more freedom.

    Kylin just hopes Kypria wouldn’t become a stranger, and would keep finding her way back home.

    She does not know what comes first, but whatever it is, it has her wide awake. Desire pools in her stomach, only to be further fuelled by Ivar's heated touches. He speaks quietly, and the soft whispered words make her shiver on a warm Ischian day. Kylin, breathless as she suddenly is, presses her shoulder more firmly against his broad chest, seeking more of his heat.

    Which he denies her, by stepping away. For a moment the lavender and cream mare stands frozen, her hazel eyes locked on his sapphire and white and golden figure, only to follow closely. The sea calls her almost just as much as Ivar does, Kypria would be fun until the morning.

    Kylin does not hesitate to step into the water, waves rolling into her as a soft sigh leaves her lips. Her eyes find Ivar again, both her ears forward, before she reaches out to tentatively touch his cheek. “Hold me?” she whispers, only to meet his gaze a short moment before glancing down. And never let me go.


    @[Ivar]
    Sorry for the wait! Actually started this reply last friday and it has been half unfinished ever since O.O
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    #15
    Thunder rumbles overhead, a dark threat accompanied by ominous clouds and the promise of a powerful storm by nightfall. This is Ivar's favorite time of year, the very best part of Ischia: hurricane season. A bolt of lightning illuminates his face and castes @[Kylin]'s pale face into stark relief. The kelpie smiles, and presses his muzzle against the mare’s lavender jaw.

    "Come on." His voice is pitched low, barely audible over the crash of the surf in the distance and the boom of thunder overhead. The afternoon sun is hazy around them, and the ever-warm breeze of tropical Ischia gusts around them. Each breath feels like he is swallowing the storm, so humid is the air around them. "Before we lose the light."

    He wants to see her, after all. The darkness is good for strangers, but Kylin is not a stranger. She belongs to him, and she will come with him because he wants her too. There is no danger in this hunt, but the kelpie plans to savor it all the same.

    Behind him, the patter of raindrops has just begun. They drop, heavy and plentiful, soaking the sand in record time. It has been some time since he last swam – nearly an hour – and he snorts in satisfaction as the rough ridges of his piebald coat once again grow damp. The surf climbs up his legs as he moves backward, beckoning the finned mare out into deeper water.

    "Don’t be afraid of a little bit of rain." Kylin is often cautious, and Ivar is familiar with this. His cheek presses against hers for just an instant, long enough to send that same command through a touch of hypnosis. He smiles, impossibly handsome, and feels the stretch of bone and muscle as his body reconfigures to the sea.


    sorry for the wait; hunting ivar’s muse has been hiding lately!
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    #16

    Like a flower waiting to bloom.

    Her ears twist towards the rumbling sound, coming from high above them, but it isn’t till the flash that she flinches. A snort and a step closer towards the sapphire tobiano is how she reacts, the sudden flash having startled her. There is no fear, as she tils her head into his touch, and neither does she need much more encouragement when he invites her deeper into the sea. “Thought you’d never ask,” not that Ivar ever asks, but what is the fun in admitting that?

    The waves gently roll against her legs where she stands only knee deep into the sea. For a moment, Kylin just enjoys the feeling, hazel eyes closed. Only to open when she feels the first spatters land on her two toned hide. While tilting her head back, towards the rain, she is unable to smile, thoroughly enjoying the sensation. If not for the coming thunder, Kylin would’ve loved a rainy swim.

    But before she can voice her worries, he tells her to forget about them. Her dished head tilts, but Ivar does not give her the chance to question it. On command, she relaxes, and the playful smile returns to her lips as the rain cascades down on them. “Looks like it’s getting dark anyway” she replies, her hazel eyes focussing on the sapphire blue and gold and white kelpie as he retreats further into sea.

    His transformation never fails to amaze her, ever only making her heart flutter, instead of scaring her. Kylin has never seen the beast hidden under a beautiful shiny outer layer. Her legs carry her after him, and the rougher growing waves lap at her, as if to urge her to move quicker. She does not stop until she has reached him, the water now flowing just across her back.

    Tentatively she reaches out, searching, longing for his touch, which she had been deprived of for a while. “What is the sea like, during a storm like this?”

    Kylin



    @[Ivar]
    Glad to see it back <3 Always enjoy my share of Kelpie goodness!
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    #17
    He does realize, on some level, that what he is doing to Kylin is not right. That realization does not come with the morally appropriate guilt that it should - it simply reminds him to be careful, to be sure that she never has any reason to doubt him. She is not able to be unhappy; Ivar refuses to allow it, and anytime he suspects she might be experiencing anything negative he presses into her the command to forget it. It is a perfectly good life, and Ivar makes the daily efforts required to ensure it continues indefinitely.

    They have been here three years now, and this western island has finally become the kelpie's home. He was meant for the sea, after all, and he has what he needs here. Their daughter is a yearling now, and her elder half-sister nearly grown. Raul and Santana have fledged, though he still sees the twins from time to time, often on the shore of the larger island. The population of their island will be shrinking soon, and it is clear from Kylin's narrow sides that their efforts to add to the headcount were fruitless.

    This year, Ivar tells himself: next year will be better.

    There might be another child, he reasons, tucked away in secrecy with the mahogany queen. Former queen, the kelpie remembers - the spotted mare that he'd not kept has since moved up and taken her throne. Ivar doesn't regret not keeping her, but that is only because he's incapable of that particular emotion.

    "Frightening." He tells her when she asks. "Unpredictable, dangerous." There's a smirk on his face as he says it, a raised brow above a golden eye that looks suspiciously like a dare. "Incredible."
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