12-29-2018, 10:05 AM
Ivar does not dream. Perhaps it is a result of biology or even simply a lack of imagination. Whatever the reason, he does not doubt for a moment that Wishbone is standing on the beach ahead of him. A thick screen of scrub had hidden her from sight and the wind which blew his mane forward with gentle gusts had her scent from him.
Yet there she stands, dark-haired and dripping, like some siren from a fairy's tale.
The thud of his hooves as he moves forward is softened by the sand, which has been turned keep amber by the light of the setting sun. It shines in captivating shades along the bay mare as well, something Ivar is acutely aware of as he draws up closer to her. The kelpie's golden eyes flick across every bit of the mare as though he might catalog each part of her to memory if he does so quickly enough.
Wishbone's disappearance had been sudden and unexpected for the piebald kelpie. One day he had something in his grasp, and the next day it was gone. His seduction of the current Nerenian Queen has been entertaining but not yet successful, and while the spotted mare is delightful she is no Wishbone. Isobell's return has been brief, and while Ivar has kept himself rather occupied this fall (Ischia needs to be populated, after all), he had found himself thinking of the missing mare more often than he'd have liked.
Though he has already started reaching out to her, the sapphire kelpie suddenly hesitates, cautious despite the haze of lust that has been growing since the moment her recognized her. "You haven't been in Nerine lately," he tells her, but there is little indication in his voice or expression to make clear if this is a statement or an accusation. He doesn't mean it as the second, of course, but he is unwilling to admit that he might have traveled to the north several times to look for her.
There were rumors she might have settled in Loess with a striped stallion, but Ivar knows that stallion's mate to be a navy-winged pegasus. He had checked the story, obviously, but had obviously found no indication of where she might have gone. Further effort than that is beyond the kelpie, of course, so he is genuinely delighted to find Wishbone on the beach, even if that is less than obvious.
@[Wishbone]
Yet there she stands, dark-haired and dripping, like some siren from a fairy's tale.
The thud of his hooves as he moves forward is softened by the sand, which has been turned keep amber by the light of the setting sun. It shines in captivating shades along the bay mare as well, something Ivar is acutely aware of as he draws up closer to her. The kelpie's golden eyes flick across every bit of the mare as though he might catalog each part of her to memory if he does so quickly enough.
Wishbone's disappearance had been sudden and unexpected for the piebald kelpie. One day he had something in his grasp, and the next day it was gone. His seduction of the current Nerenian Queen has been entertaining but not yet successful, and while the spotted mare is delightful she is no Wishbone. Isobell's return has been brief, and while Ivar has kept himself rather occupied this fall (Ischia needs to be populated, after all), he had found himself thinking of the missing mare more often than he'd have liked.
Though he has already started reaching out to her, the sapphire kelpie suddenly hesitates, cautious despite the haze of lust that has been growing since the moment her recognized her. "You haven't been in Nerine lately," he tells her, but there is little indication in his voice or expression to make clear if this is a statement or an accusation. He doesn't mean it as the second, of course, but he is unwilling to admit that he might have traveled to the north several times to look for her.
There were rumors she might have settled in Loess with a striped stallion, but Ivar knows that stallion's mate to be a navy-winged pegasus. He had checked the story, obviously, but had obviously found no indication of where she might have gone. Further effort than that is beyond the kelpie, of course, so he is genuinely delighted to find Wishbone on the beach, even if that is less than obvious.
@[Wishbone]