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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [private]  so i don't lose sight of what i want; wrena
    #1

    I V A R
    i'll use you as a makeshift gauge
    of how much to give and how much to take
    The herd of mares is scattered about the largest meadow on Kelpie, their many-colored backs bright in the midday sun. The smell of blood in the air is very faint, but it has drawn Ivar in from the sea. He passes by a long-legged filly who watches him curiously, her dun markings indicating her heritage. Delphi, Wishbone had named her. Ivar keeps her here in the hopes it might lure her mother back one day. Lumina remains for the same reason, and Ivar thinks of Breckin as he touches his nose to the shoulder of Raene, whose spotted sides remind him of a better appaloosa mare.

    Ahead of him, lazing in the sun beside the small spring that is Kelpie’s only source of water, Ivar finds the two mares he has been looking for.

    The red roan struggles quickly to her feet when he approaches. Ivar soothes her frantic eyes with a touch to her cheek, the wordless command to calm down settling easily into Fool’s mind. She has been nervous for the past few weeks, but that is to be expected. He’d let her wander the common lands in the autumn, hoping she might bear another filly like Delia, but instead had delivered a useless colt. Ivar had let Crashe and Lothbrok have it when Fool had wandered down to the beach, but the boys are less careful than Ivar and left her skittish. Beside Fool, her daughter Delia is slower to rise, and she is easily affectionate with the kelpie. Ivar touches the wide swell of her belly where his child grows and growls contentedly against her spine.

    Candle and her daughters are grazing at the edge of the meadow, nearly hidden by the shadow of the jungle, but Ivar does not move toward them. None of them had conceived this past autumn, and so they are of no use to him. He needs a nursemaid for the children he’s stolen away, and Fool will do. Delia too, since he’d ended up with both twins. Ivar considers kicking her in the belly to hurry along the process of childbirth, but there remains the slim chance that the unborn is a kelpie, and he won’t risk that. Come to the water after the child is born, he tells her as he smooths down a feather in her left wing. His actions with the women are gentle, at least to the outside observer.

    There seems nothing amiss in this little herd, nothing at all alarming. The women do all have similar marks along their necks, the bite of kelpie teeth, but perhaps Ivar is an overzealous lover. He has been careful to leave no evidence of his actions, and until the theft of the Dame’s children had been doing rather well. He is not certain how well he might hide the children here, but he has many days to figure that out, he is sure.

    After a nap in the sun, his head pillowed on Riversong’s striped back, Ivar wakes to fading evening light. He looks over the herd, a content expression on his handsome face. A faint scowl appears when he realizes Wrena is missing, and Ivar realizes that it is likely near time for her to foal. The son she’d given him had been less than desirable, but Wrena with her dragon wings and firebreathing was too delightful to destroy for one failure. He will find her tonight, Ivar decides. He will see if she has done better this season than she had last time. If she’d failed again, at least he will not have to worry about hunting down a meal after he finds her.

    @[wrena]


    and i'll use you as a warning sign
    that if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind
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