02-09-2019, 10:42 PM
“I think you underestimate how persuasive I can be,” the kelpie replies with a laugh as Mary pulls ahead of him. The dark haired stallion watches with intrigue as the pewter hide of the mare beside him transforms into a mirror of his own patchwork hide. Ivar’s handsome grin flickers for the barest moment, but is back in place long before it can be seen by the young monarch. The kelpie is wary of magic. There is much chicanery in this world, and Ivar knows that his is not the most powerful. While he never doubts his teeth, there are things in this world that are even more dangerous than a hungry beast. Ivar has not survived this long without an appropriate dose of caution.
It occurs to him that perhaps Mary should be treated more carefully.
A pity, he thinks as he nips at her flicking tail, he’d been imagining how she would look resting at the bottom of the atoll. Might as well have what fun he can, Ivar reasons. Convincing Mary to stay forever has just become much more difficult, so he wonders if he might try to convince her to stay long enough. He allows Mary to lead the way into the forest, content to follow and appreciate the view. They are headed toward the waterfall, he knows, the freshwater pool where kelpies have been known to gather. He knows that Deiti tends to lurk these waters and hopes that the dark-eyed enchantress is elsewhere this summer afternoon.
As they move along the trail, Ivar remains just behind Mary’s shoulder, allowing her to guide their travel along the sandy path. His scaled shoulder brushes against her side every now and again, and when it happens his mind tends to wander. They have a bit of distance to cover before they see anything worth pausing for, so Ivar asks: “What do you have in Sylva that you couldn’t have here?” His expression is curious were she to glance back at him, and the kelpie’s shoulder presses more firmly against her ribs, a reminder of his presence.
@[Mary]
It occurs to him that perhaps Mary should be treated more carefully.
A pity, he thinks as he nips at her flicking tail, he’d been imagining how she would look resting at the bottom of the atoll. Might as well have what fun he can, Ivar reasons. Convincing Mary to stay forever has just become much more difficult, so he wonders if he might try to convince her to stay long enough. He allows Mary to lead the way into the forest, content to follow and appreciate the view. They are headed toward the waterfall, he knows, the freshwater pool where kelpies have been known to gather. He knows that Deiti tends to lurk these waters and hopes that the dark-eyed enchantress is elsewhere this summer afternoon.
As they move along the trail, Ivar remains just behind Mary’s shoulder, allowing her to guide their travel along the sandy path. His scaled shoulder brushes against her side every now and again, and when it happens his mind tends to wander. They have a bit of distance to cover before they see anything worth pausing for, so Ivar asks: “What do you have in Sylva that you couldn’t have here?” His expression is curious were she to glance back at him, and the kelpie’s shoulder presses more firmly against her ribs, a reminder of his presence.
@[Mary]