12-19-2018, 08:42 AM
The roan stallion sidles into the conversation much like he has in the past, attaching himself to the trio in a way Ivar internally likens to a barnacle. Irritating, but ultimately not worth bothering with. The kelpie is oblivious to whatever veiled insinuations Leilan attempts to make, and that is clear in the frown that wrinkles his pale forehead as he takes a step away from the scaled stallion (though not from the conversation - he merely wishes to be farther lest the barnacle attempt to attach itself more permanently) as Leilan begins by insulting him.
As he does so, his golden eyes flick across the changes to the stallion's physique since they'd last met: scales and teeth and ice. It's a pity Deiti hadn't been permanently successful, Ivar thinks, but the idea of her attempt does a pleasant smile to the kelpie's face.
"If you'd ever like a demonstration of how those teeth are meant to be used, I'd be glad to show you." He responds to Leilan's rude insinuation about his smell. "But if you'd rather continue to hide behind petty insults every time we meet, I won't hold it against you." His tone is magnanimous, the pleasant smile never leaving his face.
Leilan might be immune to death, but the idea of wedging his body between the coral so that he'd rise from the dead only to drown again is a rather delightful one that brings a wolfish light to Ivar's face.
The roan filly is far less verbose than their companions, and when she answers with a single world, the scaled kelpie turns back to her somewhat more pensively than before. His smile remains - he is rarely without it long - but rather than press her for an answer he finds Mary is answering him.
Haughty and proud - he might have pinned her as the queen rather than a princess. Her delight at Leilan's pettiness seems fitting with her aura, but Ivar is not deterred. "I know Sylva has it charms, but take it from someone who grew up there - Berqanna has much to offer than a forest of pretty trees." Mary's pride in her throne has doubtlessly cast an enthralling glow over the autumn woods, but the world will spin on and Ivar knows that her disenchantment is inevitable.
He glances back at Naia when she asks Leilan where he is from. The scaled stallion smells of Nerine still but there is something more, and since Ivar would rather avoid whatever place Leilan has made his new nest, he is curious about where the sharp scent of ice that coats the roan's skin might have originated.
ooc: i have been enlightened as to how old Naia is so Ivar is going to be less pedo-creepy now because that was totally not my original intent lol
@[Naia]
@[Leilan]
@[Mary]
As he does so, his golden eyes flick across the changes to the stallion's physique since they'd last met: scales and teeth and ice. It's a pity Deiti hadn't been permanently successful, Ivar thinks, but the idea of her attempt does a pleasant smile to the kelpie's face.
"If you'd ever like a demonstration of how those teeth are meant to be used, I'd be glad to show you." He responds to Leilan's rude insinuation about his smell. "But if you'd rather continue to hide behind petty insults every time we meet, I won't hold it against you." His tone is magnanimous, the pleasant smile never leaving his face.
Leilan might be immune to death, but the idea of wedging his body between the coral so that he'd rise from the dead only to drown again is a rather delightful one that brings a wolfish light to Ivar's face.
The roan filly is far less verbose than their companions, and when she answers with a single world, the scaled kelpie turns back to her somewhat more pensively than before. His smile remains - he is rarely without it long - but rather than press her for an answer he finds Mary is answering him.
Haughty and proud - he might have pinned her as the queen rather than a princess. Her delight at Leilan's pettiness seems fitting with her aura, but Ivar is not deterred. "I know Sylva has it charms, but take it from someone who grew up there - Berqanna has much to offer than a forest of pretty trees." Mary's pride in her throne has doubtlessly cast an enthralling glow over the autumn woods, but the world will spin on and Ivar knows that her disenchantment is inevitable.
He glances back at Naia when she asks Leilan where he is from. The scaled stallion smells of Nerine still but there is something more, and since Ivar would rather avoid whatever place Leilan has made his new nest, he is curious about where the sharp scent of ice that coats the roan's skin might have originated.
ooc: i have been enlightened as to how old Naia is so Ivar is going to be less pedo-creepy now because that was totally not my original intent lol
@[Naia]
@[Leilan]
@[Mary]