11-01-2018, 09:20 PM
He watches them from afar, the trio on Ischia.
First an animal that did not belong, a creature halfway between an iguana and a hippopotamus that he instinctively doesn’t trust. Then a girl appearing in the blink of an eye and the spotted stallion that reminds him of the woman he could not have.
Ivar scowls at them.
His ocean has changed, and it is infuriating. The idea of staying in a home that is not familiar grates against the kelpie’s instinct. He has no young offspring, no weaklings, no expectant mates (that he knows of). For a while Ivar does fight the urge. The stallion knows he should stay; it is the kelpie that longs for the sea.
But that was never a fight the piebald creature could ever truly win.
He enters the water with a splash - perhaps the trio might see a glint of blue and gold beneath the water, headed north.
When he finds her it is on a new island, and it is once again evening. Bright enough the can see the changes in her, dark enough that he might eye her with lust and remain unseen.
Now he knows. Now he understands why she had called to him, and why he had answered. The kelpie had suspected when he had first tasted her, when his teeth had closed over the cold crest of her neck and the blood on his tongue was salted by the sea even in the heart of the taiga. Ivar is rather proud of his good taste in women - pun intended, and this is clear as his golden eyes rove shamelessly down her seemingly endless tentacles.
“Much better.” He replies shamelessly. “The rotting look didn’t quite suit you. This is more flattering.”
Then, with a tilt of his head and a charming smile, the kelpie adds: “Wouldn’t you like a nice place to stay? Safe from sickness?” The sapphire and gold kelpie is far less eloquent than his companion, but he is also a simpler creature. His needs are few and base, for now. “Stay here with me. We can swim.”
First an animal that did not belong, a creature halfway between an iguana and a hippopotamus that he instinctively doesn’t trust. Then a girl appearing in the blink of an eye and the spotted stallion that reminds him of the woman he could not have.
Ivar scowls at them.
His ocean has changed, and it is infuriating. The idea of staying in a home that is not familiar grates against the kelpie’s instinct. He has no young offspring, no weaklings, no expectant mates (that he knows of). For a while Ivar does fight the urge. The stallion knows he should stay; it is the kelpie that longs for the sea.
But that was never a fight the piebald creature could ever truly win.
He enters the water with a splash - perhaps the trio might see a glint of blue and gold beneath the water, headed north.
When he finds her it is on a new island, and it is once again evening. Bright enough the can see the changes in her, dark enough that he might eye her with lust and remain unseen.
Now he knows. Now he understands why she had called to him, and why he had answered. The kelpie had suspected when he had first tasted her, when his teeth had closed over the cold crest of her neck and the blood on his tongue was salted by the sea even in the heart of the taiga. Ivar is rather proud of his good taste in women - pun intended, and this is clear as his golden eyes rove shamelessly down her seemingly endless tentacles.
“Much better.” He replies shamelessly. “The rotting look didn’t quite suit you. This is more flattering.”
Then, with a tilt of his head and a charming smile, the kelpie adds: “Wouldn’t you like a nice place to stay? Safe from sickness?” The sapphire and gold kelpie is far less eloquent than his companion, but he is also a simpler creature. His needs are few and base, for now. “Stay here with me. We can swim.”