dark side of the morning; Kylin

[Ivar]

i'll use you as a makeshift gauge
of how much to give and how much to take

Ivar has always lived an ‘all or nothing’ existence; he’d have suggested she learn to swim in the ocean if they’d been there first. The pied colt enjoys the tug of the currents, but as he watches Kylin taking hesitant steps forward earlier, he realizes that perhaps she’d not have faired so well in the unpredictable sea.

(weak. nevermind.)

He remains beside her as she ventures deeper, feeling the occasional bump of her shoulder against his as they descend. The water slides around him, warm and familiar. Kylin loses her footing, and the quickening of her heart echoes through the water. It is not as appealing as it might have been a moment ago, and though Ivar does swim closer the previous hunger is entirely gone form his soft brown eyes.

“You’re doing great,” he tells her, encouraged by the smile on her pale mouth. The lavender and white filly is swimming out farther and farther into the pool, and while Ivar is pleased at her progress, he doesn’t let her get too far in before he acts. He dives beneath the water easily, forelegs bent and hindlegs extended as he scrapes the sandy bottom directly below her. He twists and rises on her opposite side, using the flat of his head to push her barrel a little up and over, guiding her back to the shallower water.

(no no no. down.)

The water saps strength more quickly than most expect; Ivar’s instincts have always known this. This is Kylin’s first time swimming, and the boy does not want her legs to give out on her. She might not want to swim again, and Ivar wants her too. Having done his best to direct her back to where she can stand: he surfaces. The water streams off his pale face and corded mane, and he blinks smiling brown eyes at Kylin.

“What’d’ya think?” He asks excitedly. “Do you love it?”

IVAR