12-12-2018, 08:52 AM
The sharpness in Castile tone doesn’t alarm the kelpie; he has nothing to fear from the dragon and he does not begrudge him the affection of his sibling. While Ivar has never been as close to his own blood relatives (something confirmed with the arrival of Lochwood in Ischia) he recognizes that the dragon-born have tighter bonds than his own. Isobell is only dragon-born, after all; she is kelpie now. And his.
He is looking out at the sea when Castile admits he does not know of his niece and nephews, and while the piebald’s tone is less than pleasant Ivar does not glance back. It is not the kelpie’s fault that Castile does not know them, and any guilt he might feel about denying him the knowledge is entirely absent. Isobell had kept the twins from him as well, after all. He barely knows the two children, but he knows enough to cherish them. Well, to cherish them as well as such a creature can.
The mention that Sabra is healing – and not dead – does finally draw the kelpie’s gaze away from the moonlight horizon. So the winged mare is immortal then. It would explain her near-impossible recovery after her return from wherever it was that she had gone. Ivar had never asked – again, the apathy – but he had kept her sons safe as a good uncle does and had never probed further into the matter. That Castile plans to keep her secluded does cause one raised brow from the sapphire-scaled creature, more out of intrigue at their similarities than judgment for the dragon’s actions. There is a reason Ivar has claimed this land, after all. He means to keep his treasures all in one place.
The expression on his face smoothes to stillness as he takes in Castile’s response to his confession. There is no flicker of guilt, at least not for the correct reasons. If he’d done it better, perhaps she might not have chosen to leave him. Her stubborn refusal to play the mild kelpie wife has been a source of constant frustration to the piebald stallion, and he wonders if that is not partially due to the iron strength of her blood.
“Why do monsters do anything?” Ivar asks instead of answering the question, his golden eyes fixed on the mismatched gaze of his childhood friend.
“Because they are monsters,” He adds, answering what might have seemed rhetorical. “I cannot change my nature anymore than you can.”
@[Castile]
He is looking out at the sea when Castile admits he does not know of his niece and nephews, and while the piebald’s tone is less than pleasant Ivar does not glance back. It is not the kelpie’s fault that Castile does not know them, and any guilt he might feel about denying him the knowledge is entirely absent. Isobell had kept the twins from him as well, after all. He barely knows the two children, but he knows enough to cherish them. Well, to cherish them as well as such a creature can.
The mention that Sabra is healing – and not dead – does finally draw the kelpie’s gaze away from the moonlight horizon. So the winged mare is immortal then. It would explain her near-impossible recovery after her return from wherever it was that she had gone. Ivar had never asked – again, the apathy – but he had kept her sons safe as a good uncle does and had never probed further into the matter. That Castile plans to keep her secluded does cause one raised brow from the sapphire-scaled creature, more out of intrigue at their similarities than judgment for the dragon’s actions. There is a reason Ivar has claimed this land, after all. He means to keep his treasures all in one place.
The expression on his face smoothes to stillness as he takes in Castile’s response to his confession. There is no flicker of guilt, at least not for the correct reasons. If he’d done it better, perhaps she might not have chosen to leave him. Her stubborn refusal to play the mild kelpie wife has been a source of constant frustration to the piebald stallion, and he wonders if that is not partially due to the iron strength of her blood.
“Why do monsters do anything?” Ivar asks instead of answering the question, his golden eyes fixed on the mismatched gaze of his childhood friend.
“Because they are monsters,” He adds, answering what might have seemed rhetorical. “I cannot change my nature anymore than you can.”
@[Castile]