although this world is made of fearsome beasts that bark and bite
we were born to put these creatures through one hell of a fight
Something like distrust strikes the back of his throat at the first sight of the kelpie.
He has no immediate reason for it, nothing to spark it except the way Karat had looked when she had come back, but he tucks it away for later. Even though his scarred fingers want nothing more than to grab onto the hilt of a sword, he remains relaxed for now, forcing his handsome face into neutral lines, nothing threatening in his stance of expression. Ivar is unlike anything he has ever seen before, and after more than a century of wandering the many iterations of Beqanna, Magnus has been able to see a lot. But he cannot recall a time when he has ever seen something like the scaled, shark-toothed stallion before him.
It is not the first time that Magnus has realized that he is to hold his own against one who is naturally disposed with gifts that he could only dream of. Except a brief, awkward stint with kingdom-granted wings, and a newfound gift of immortality in his veins, Magnus has never wielded the kind of gifts that are now so abundant. He can neither command the oceans nor pull elements from thin air. He has nothing except a body trained past the point of its natural abilities and the sweat on his brow and his experience.
It has to be enough, he reminds himself, locking eyes with the kelpie.
As always, it has to be enough.
“I figured it was far past time for me to come introduce myself.” His grin is lopsided, his pulse even and his gold-flecked eyes friendly, regardless of the instincts firing within him. “My name is Magnus. I am the current leader of Tephra.” There is a pause, the seabreeze picking up and ruffling his mane. He lets the silence stretch, watches the other with a steady gaze, his war-scarred coat still drenched with the sea.
Finally, he breaks the quiet.
“I think it would be useful to discuss the relationship between our two lands.”
magnus
@[Ivar]