07-08-2023, 09:54 PM
 I V A R promising everything i do not mean |
Ivar hears the crack of brush underfoot only a heartbeat before the mare steps from the shadows at his shoulder. He smiles. It is not a smile of recognition, but it could pass for one. It is hunger, and Ivar had worn it while watching Wishbone often. But she is not Wishbone. He hardly remembers who Wishbone is; she is as deep in the sea of memory as the rest of his life before the cenote. Almost half his life spent in there - a blur of tepid water, clawed stone walls, and blood. That is what he knows best: blood and water and the hunt. The horse in front of him is no one. She is prey. She is just a purple mare, one with a viciously glowing scar across her chest. Unkillable, that scar says to the kelpie. A challenge. A creature, she calls him without palpable fear, and Ivar’s too-wide smile becomes a grin. That voice is no longer familiar, but the rasp of it is like that of a drowned woman, and it lures the creature nearer. They taste so much better when they are not afraid. ”Surprised?” He repeats lightly, a lift of his brows displaying dramatically falsified incredulity. ”I was hoping for delighted, but I can work with surprised.” He reaches out to touch, but catches her amber eye with his gold one in the moment before his lips meet her cheek. Nothing. There is nothing there. There’d almost been, and perhaps she will see the split-second of hesitation it had caused, or notice there was no demand in his sea-cold touch against her cheek. |
I know my lies could not make you believe in my dark times, baby this is all I could be |