01-03-2018, 11:37 PM
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
She is captivated by the colours of the land and its fauna as the shallow canyon she is following splits left, embarrassingly lost in her admiration for the beauty of it (there was no such beauty in the Beyond). Without any warning, a significantly larger someone has barreled into her - the small mare feels her balance give way, but a strong neck catches her and draws her in close.
Ivar.
Despite all her self-proclaimed hardness and servitude, the mare melts into his embrace and pressing her cheek into his scaled side, exhaling peacefully into his damp mane. There is reassurance in his touch - a kind of consistency that she trusts. Like him, she finds relaxation and distraction in his presence. Sue her for succumbing to her femininity; she really does like this stallion.
The kelpie pulls away as he speaks, though she doesn't resent the distance. Her own mouth lips gently at his hardened shoulder, though she's not sure if his nerve endings can sense such a delicate and sensual touch through the light armour. Regardless, she knows that they will share many such touches again soon, and she relaxes into a hip to entertain His Majesty's Royal Desires (that being some chit chat, for now).
"Come to stay, if it please you," She says with some playfulness, her expression quite pleasant considering her usual disposition. Her eyes catch the light that falls into the canyon, and they rest easily on King, admiring his luster and sheen. "And my brother might join me, if I have any say in things." Torture was a man of his own command, after all; but she fancied the idea of having him causing trouble with her in Loess, never mind the havoc it might cause considering the romantic standpoints of everyone involved. But she could get him to promise to stick just to her - maybe...
"Walk with my, Ivar," she says, stepping forward and straining to nuzzle his mouth affectionately towards her desired path. "And tell me about this kingdom of yours. Where do I fit in it? I'd like to be of some use, politically and all. Physically, there's no more of me than meets the eye -" though Ivar hadn't seemed to mind that in Ischia, no sir "- so the war caste is probably not a good fit for me." She casts her black eyes towards him, smiling slightly and laughing. "You are, though." Physically, if not emotionally.
The canyon echoes their hoof-beats quietly as the walk.
Trissy