07-04-2017, 07:03 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take For all the appeal of kingdoms’ beautiful scenery, there is something to be said about the constant flood of novelty arriving in Beqanna. There are so many individuals that even a plain dapple grey was striking, and a copper chestnut with no neon strands in her mane is a rarity. The mare that Ivar watches is no normal horse. He’d seen her the moment she’d arrived, and has followed her determined march across the snowy Field to reach the bustling crowds in the center. From time to time she disappears behind a taller horse, but he’s always able to find her again. There is no mistaking those stripes – in a solid colored herd of horseflesh they make her stand out rather than blend in as they should. Midwinter is not his favorite season for socializing, but something about the boldness with which she calls attention to herself draws him in. The black and white stallion slips easily through the crowd, drawing as much attention for his own looks as she does for her stripes. Ivar has already begun to realize why Father prefers to stay hidden in the woods, away from prying eyes. “Hello there,” he says with an easy smile. Stopped a few paces away, he does his best to give her more than enough space to feel comfortable. “I’m Ivar. What’s your name?” |