Like a flower waiting to bloom - Ivar

[Ivar]

I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take “I guess not.” He replies. “Though maybe they meet up with them out at sea?” The idea is foreign – Ivar doesn’t often put himself in the place of nonequine animals. He knows that his own instinctual inclination is to stay with a band of others; who is to say that turtles don’t do the same out in the saline depths? The smile on his face softens as he watches Kylin react to the little turtle. She is genuinely concerned about its welfare, and Ivar watches her with a strange sort of warmth growing in his chest. The lavender girl does nothing to hide her emotions; Ivar can read her face like a book. She talks to the hatchling as though she has forgotten Ivar entirely, and it feels only natural that he should come closer, should rest his neck across her shoulder and watch the baby toddle off to sea. A quick wave almost succeeds in sweeping it away, and the turtle freezes, clearly unsure. The piebald stallion makes a noise of reassurance in his throat, and it works (or perhaps is just coincidence) as the little creature completes its bolt into the sea. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Ivar tells her. Realizing how close they are standing, Ivar draws away. He doesn’t do so quickly, but he does know that not everyone is as comfortable with physical affection as he is. “After all,” confident reassurance in his tone, “The mother must have started out that small too, and she survived the open water.” kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis