05-25-2018, 01:31 PM
His grazing leads him farther from the edge of the river, and Ivar does not look up. He trusts his other senses (and those of the nameless horses around him), so the sound of a half-familiar voice causes him to pause. No, he thinks, must have been the river. But it comes again and he is no longer physically hungry, so he raises his head to find the source.
There, half-hidden by long shadows of the trees.
Not Isobell, but his nonetheless.
Ivar had not spared a thought for the women left behind in Loess until now. Were they still there, kept by whomever had usurped Lepis? (For surely someone had usurped her - what self respecting creature lets a newborn rule them?) That idea is intriguing; perhaps he might gather them up again. He spent the time to collect them in the first place, after all; there is no reason to think they would not come as easily the second time.
He doesn't think in terms of abandonment or that years have passed. Ivar steps up beside Ichor as though no time has passed since their last interaction. His dark muzzle presses into the feather soft scales along her neck. They feel different than when they are underwater, he finds. For a moment he turns back to look toward the River, reminded of their first meeting.
"You didn't want to swim?" He asks her, as though their last conversation had only been the day before. He can see the bright flowers across the bank, and they look quite like something that Ichor might want.
<3333
@[Ichor]
There, half-hidden by long shadows of the trees.
Not Isobell, but his nonetheless.
Ivar had not spared a thought for the women left behind in Loess until now. Were they still there, kept by whomever had usurped Lepis? (For surely someone had usurped her - what self respecting creature lets a newborn rule them?) That idea is intriguing; perhaps he might gather them up again. He spent the time to collect them in the first place, after all; there is no reason to think they would not come as easily the second time.
He doesn't think in terms of abandonment or that years have passed. Ivar steps up beside Ichor as though no time has passed since their last interaction. His dark muzzle presses into the feather soft scales along her neck. They feel different than when they are underwater, he finds. For a moment he turns back to look toward the River, reminded of their first meeting.
"You didn't want to swim?" He asks her, as though their last conversation had only been the day before. He can see the bright flowers across the bank, and they look quite like something that Ichor might want.
<3333
@[Ichor]