05-24-2018, 07:40 PM
The farther upstream Ivar goes, the heavier he feels.
The kelpie had not expected to have such a strong preference (especially given a childhood spent in freshwater), but as he leaves the salty sea behind him he discovers that he does. There's no reason for Isobell to have come up this far away from the ocean, but there is also no reason for her to be gone at all, so Ivar feels the River is as good a place as any to search for her.
He remains a few feet below the water, surfacing now and then to look along the banks. They are empty - or at least empty of anyone interesting - and the piebald stallion has made it nearly halfway to Hyaline before he climbs onto the bank.
As he does, the sleek dark tail that propelled him through the water splits into a pair of legs, covered in matte scales that shimmer only until the water slides off of him. The pale scales of his face, forelegs, and chest remain bright even as he slowly dries in the sun, their mother-of-pearl sheen a stark contrast to the tangle and cords of his black mane.
Around him, a few horses graze, seemingly unperturbed by the water creature that has emerged from the depths. The kelpie eyes them curiously for only a moment - he is not hungry and they are not Isobell - before returning to his own evening meal.
The kelpie had not expected to have such a strong preference (especially given a childhood spent in freshwater), but as he leaves the salty sea behind him he discovers that he does. There's no reason for Isobell to have come up this far away from the ocean, but there is also no reason for her to be gone at all, so Ivar feels the River is as good a place as any to search for her.
He remains a few feet below the water, surfacing now and then to look along the banks. They are empty - or at least empty of anyone interesting - and the piebald stallion has made it nearly halfway to Hyaline before he climbs onto the bank.
As he does, the sleek dark tail that propelled him through the water splits into a pair of legs, covered in matte scales that shimmer only until the water slides off of him. The pale scales of his face, forelegs, and chest remain bright even as he slowly dries in the sun, their mother-of-pearl sheen a stark contrast to the tangle and cords of his black mane.
Around him, a few horses graze, seemingly unperturbed by the water creature that has emerged from the depths. The kelpie eyes them curiously for only a moment - he is not hungry and they are not Isobell - before returning to his own evening meal.