02-10-2019, 12:19 AM
Ischia is neither a large nor a powerful territory, but it is by far the most appealing one Ivar has come across. He finds it far preferable to the woods where Mary rules, and her stubborn refusal to abandon the fiery woods in favor of year round paradise puzzles him. Sylva is no more powerful than Ischia (at last in Ivar’s mind) and he cannot imagine it is love for her co-ruler that binds her there. Rather than scowl in frustration, the piebald stallion runs his pale muszle along the edge of Mary’s blue shoulder.
“Queen of Ischia is not a title that appeals to you?” He asks. It is not one he can offer – at least not truthfully. Tephra is the kingdom of the West, after all, and Ivar merely a khal of a sparsely populated territory. The buckskin Magnus had not been the sort that Ivar would make an enemy of, but there are few lines he would not cross in pursuit of prey. Mary intrigues him. Like all things he finds curious, he wishes to keep her, and the reasoning behind that does not always translate well to the strong-minded, spirited women that he intends to pursue.
“And what exactly do we have?” The kelpie replies, his brows lifted. His tone is teasing, and he pauses his forward movement for a moment, and runs his cheek against the curve of her side until he can nip gently at her flank. There’s a playfyl question in his eyes, but they are still far from the water. Best to wait until they are closer, he knows, until he knows that he has the advantage.
@[Mary]
“Queen of Ischia is not a title that appeals to you?” He asks. It is not one he can offer – at least not truthfully. Tephra is the kingdom of the West, after all, and Ivar merely a khal of a sparsely populated territory. The buckskin Magnus had not been the sort that Ivar would make an enemy of, but there are few lines he would not cross in pursuit of prey. Mary intrigues him. Like all things he finds curious, he wishes to keep her, and the reasoning behind that does not always translate well to the strong-minded, spirited women that he intends to pursue.
“And what exactly do we have?” The kelpie replies, his brows lifted. His tone is teasing, and he pauses his forward movement for a moment, and runs his cheek against the curve of her side until he can nip gently at her flank. There’s a playfyl question in his eyes, but they are still far from the water. Best to wait until they are closer, he knows, until he knows that he has the advantage.
@[Mary]