04-05-2017, 07:36 AM
The water of his pond is not nearly as clear as this. Perhaps it is because it is always shaded, or perhaps it is the mountain stream that feeds it, but Ivar finds it sorely lacking in comparison to this rather glorious body of water. Dad wouldn’t like it, he suspects – there is nowhere to hide, not even in the depths. Ivar is not his father though, and the excitement that he feels is not dimmed, not even when he is approached by a horse that walks toward him from atop the water.
He looks up at her from the shallows, his curious brown eyes flicking from where her hooves rest on the water’s surface to her lavender face. “That’s really cool,” he tells her, meaning her ability to walk atop the water. His small head gestures at her feet for emphasis. With one pale hoof he tries to do the same, but it just sinks through the water like it always has. “Can you not get in the water?” That would be a rather terrible tragedy, he thinks, to be able to walk above the water but never to swim.
“I’m Ivar,” he tells her as he wades out farther into the water. He’s able to circle her entirely with submerging his head, and he returns to his original spot looking just a bit more awestruck. He’s still too young to notice beauty (or the promise of it) but he is thrilled enough at his new companion’s to more than make up for it.
“Do you live here?” He asks, “I did’nt see anybody but I guess I wasn’t looking.” He hadn’t smelled anyone else either, but with a land as new as this one that is not really surprising. Beqanna had just given them these lands – they are not like Sylva and Nerine with years of horse’s having called them home. Ivar rather likes the idea of adventuring in a place that few have seen before.
“Have you ever been to the very bottom?” He asks suddenly, just as it occurs to him that perhaps no one (but the fish) have ever been down there. Perhaps he can be the very first, if only he can do it.
He looks up at her from the shallows, his curious brown eyes flicking from where her hooves rest on the water’s surface to her lavender face. “That’s really cool,” he tells her, meaning her ability to walk atop the water. His small head gestures at her feet for emphasis. With one pale hoof he tries to do the same, but it just sinks through the water like it always has. “Can you not get in the water?” That would be a rather terrible tragedy, he thinks, to be able to walk above the water but never to swim.
“I’m Ivar,” he tells her as he wades out farther into the water. He’s able to circle her entirely with submerging his head, and he returns to his original spot looking just a bit more awestruck. He’s still too young to notice beauty (or the promise of it) but he is thrilled enough at his new companion’s to more than make up for it.
“Do you live here?” He asks, “I did’nt see anybody but I guess I wasn’t looking.” He hadn’t smelled anyone else either, but with a land as new as this one that is not really surprising. Beqanna had just given them these lands – they are not like Sylva and Nerine with years of horse’s having called them home. Ivar rather likes the idea of adventuring in a place that few have seen before.
“Have you ever been to the very bottom?” He asks suddenly, just as it occurs to him that perhaps no one (but the fish) have ever been down there. Perhaps he can be the very first, if only he can do it.