-Adria-
Plucking their son’s name like an overripe fruit, Brennen presents it aloud and Adria smirkingly agrees that it suits the youngster. Luath was more than adequate, having been firstborn and immediately knowing his kelpie shape before any other. His mother, looking sideways upon the blue-red rump half buried underneath her, imagines that he must’ve been swimming around inside of her like that. But Ionia, where does she fit into the puzzle of Adria’s lineage?
The Nereid’s mind dwells on the puff of smoke that was her daughter’s first breath, rousing memories of another dark stallion: the soothing tenor of a rough, fiery voice and the smell of ash.
She quiets those fragmented, blissful hours because they seem all the more disproportionate with Brennen so close by. It was unbecoming to compare the two right now. Clearly, one was here and the other was not.
The bay’s reply draws her gaze up and out, searching until they trip into his softened eyes and decide to stay there for a while. He’s got her listening, hooked for a moment as she studies the high brow and the narrow nose, the quirk of his dark lips and how all the elements of his face come together to make a more than fetching catch. Adria sighs herself, knowing Brennen to be a good type of horse in a world filled with so many bad types, so she answers, “Our desires are not unlike one another, then.”
“I was born and raised here, family is important to me. Above everything our children deserve to see us as a working unit… if nothing else.” She swallows, a bit of her vulnerability peeking out between the cracks, “And with Ionia being of the land, my time may end up being split unevenly between the two. I will need your help.” The seamare admits.
A tentative, appreciative smile looms over her like a warm light. “I know Nerine is an obligation you cannot abandon, but it would be a lie to say I did not want you here often.”
Softly, she breaks away from the twins and trails closer to their father. As she lifts her comely chin the waves of her mane tumble down along her neck and rest, cascading, across the small of her back. He’s not so tall that she can’t manage to press a buoyant, delicate kiss against the rough brown of his cheek, and afterwards she pulls as gently away again towards the teeming jungle.
“Can you stay for a while longer?” Adria wants to know, accepting the way Ionia comes to curl around her chest for affection. “I need rest and I don’t doubt that Ionia needs a nap… but Luath,” She says knowingly, looking from the boy and back to his father, “needs to be introduced to his true home.”
Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me
@[Brennen]