let my shadows prove the sunshine
The waterfall had been new to Svedka; it was something that hadn’t existed the last time he lived here. He had visited quite often, enjoying the magical thrum of its falling waters. Part of him wanted to wade in its healing properties, wondering if it would be a cleansing balm to the silent beast that prowls just beneath the surface of his champagne and ivory skin. His cerulean gaze would stare into the misted waterfall for hours, mesmerized and at the same time hopeful. It is incredibly unlike him but he has become hesitant in bathing in its power, for fear that his condition is not one that could be altered, even by magic itself.
When he finds Ilma he is just damp from an afternoon romp in the sea, enjoying the less humid weather that only comes when it is winter in Tephra. His long and tangled flaxen tendrils are pressed firmly against his neck and face, stuck there and crisp with salt as they dried. She is as pale and perfect as a winter moonrise when she comes into his view, and he easily trots through the thick foliage of the scrub that surrounds the inland portion of his home towards her, catching the very last of her conversation to her son.
“Ilma,” he greets her, his voice pleased and sultry on the unusually dry air. The sky is clear and crystal blue, the only marring of its expanse being the gulls and seaside hawks that are dark against an otherwise wind-scrubbed sky. He snorts gently as he draws himself alongside the bank, hesitating just where the water meets the gently sloping shoreline, a warm and lazy smile on his pink lips. His muscular legs are speckled with black sand that clings to him desperately from his swim in the ocean, dark and noticeable against his light skin.
His gaze, after lingering on Ilma for a fond amount of time, gently pulls to the younger stallion beside her, who seems to be leaving. Svedka’s head bobs to him in greeting, tipping his chin slightly in a welcoming nod. He had met her children in years past, but had barely recognized the full grown stallion that stands beside Ilma. She had to reintroduce them upon their arrival in Tephra. Even when he had been met with the uncertainty of the stallion’s identity, there is ease and warmth on his handsome face. “Toivo,” comes his fluid voice, “it’s good to see you again.” Taking care of her when I’m not here.
“Don’t worry,” he continues, mischief dancing in his eyes as he peers at Ilma with a sideways glance, “I’ll keep her busy.”
svedka
he's so inappropriate i'm so sorry lmao
@[Ilma]