"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
04-04-2017, 10:15 PM (This post was last modified: 10-12-2017, 10:06 AM by Kortnee.)
The brackish water between salt and fresh is his favorite, but he's yet to find a pool to call his own. Ivar isn't looking hard, of course; he rarely ventures far from his mother's side. Still, there are times (like now) when he manages to catch a slow moving flounder and doesn't have to return to Djinni to nurse, and his adventuring is extended by a few hours.
He has managed to make it down through the waterways to the wide lake south of the Taiga, then up north to the sea. The seals had played with him for a while, but eventually he grows tires of swimming and climbs onto the shore. This is a new place, a place that he doesn't recognize from his mother's stories.
It should frighten him - he is still a child, after all - but it does not.
Instead, he feels a thrill of excitement, and heads farther into the strange land, climbing up through shoreline that turns to woods and farther up onto the mountain ridge and then -
Wow.
Ivar is running toward the water before he's really thought it through, and it's not till he's soaking wet and enjoying the sensation of the bright noon sun on his dark back that he realizes that he should probably have been more cautious. He stays in the water, submerged up to his belly, but does look around, curious.
She had been out to play on the lake today, escaping from her dam and Reilly’s nagging, to the one place they could not follow her. Kharon, of course, could. But she would never turn her twin brother down. In fact, she longed for his presence. Life always seemed so dull and boring with him at her side, and she hoped he would join her soon once he could escape the watchful eyes.
Her metallic sire, so she had learned, also possessed the same ability, making the twins take after him more than you would say at first glance. Not only was he the cause of the white parts of the coat, the lavender obviously was his doing too. Perhaps the only way Kylin resembled her dam was in sex and eyes. If she had to believe what Kharon said.
Her eyes had been fixed on the surface of the lake, her muzzle touching it, as it wrinkled around her hooves. She stood in the middle, too far away from the sides to be able to hear her dam or Reilly, and that was perfectly fine with her. The sound of splashing water – though it is strange, normally Kharon just walked on the water just like she did – makes her look up eagerly, though the colt her eyes land on is not her brother.
Kylin has never seen him before, but that does not hold her back or speed her up. It seemed that one of the adults had noticed his presence yet, though he made quite a grand entrance. ”Who’re you?” she asks curiously, voice sweet and soft. She had left het spot in the middle of the lake, approached him from the side he probably did not expect someone to come from. Her head dips, lowering to meet his gaze, as she stood much higher. Her hooves did not stand on the bottom of the lake, but instead the surface of the water.
The water of his pond is not nearly as clear as this. Perhaps it is because it is always shaded, or perhaps it is the mountain stream that feeds it, but Ivar finds it sorely lacking in comparison to this rather glorious body of water. Dad wouldn’t like it, he suspects – there is nowhere to hide, not even in the depths. Ivar is not his father though, and the excitement that he feels is not dimmed, not even when he is approached by a horse that walks toward him from atop the water.
He looks up at her from the shallows, his curious brown eyes flicking from where her hooves rest on the water’s surface to her lavender face. “That’s really cool,” he tells her, meaning her ability to walk atop the water. His small head gestures at her feet for emphasis. With one pale hoof he tries to do the same, but it just sinks through the water like it always has. “Can you not get in the water?” That would be a rather terrible tragedy, he thinks, to be able to walk above the water but never to swim.
“I’m Ivar,” he tells her as he wades out farther into the water. He’s able to circle her entirely with submerging his head, and he returns to his original spot looking just a bit more awestruck. He’s still too young to notice beauty (or the promise of it) but he is thrilled enough at his new companion’s to more than make up for it.
“Do you live here?” He asks, “I did’nt see anybody but I guess I wasn’t looking.” He hadn’t smelled anyone else either, but with a land as new as this one that is not really surprising. Beqanna had just given them these lands – they are not like Sylva and Nerine with years of horse’s having called them home. Ivar rather likes the idea of adventuring in a place that few have seen before.
“Have you ever been to the very bottom?” He asks suddenly, just as it occurs to him that perhaps no one (but the fish) have ever been down there. Perhaps he can be the very first, if only he can do it.
She can only smile at him widely and nod in agreement. Even though it was practically normal to her, it still amazed her every time. Her girly giggle fills the air around them as he tries to stand up on the water too. It obviously doesn’t work and instead the water spatters all over them. Kylin lifts her dipped head again, shaking as if that would dry her partially wet face. ”I never really tried” she answers honestly. Her hazel gaze moves towards the pale surface she was standing on, watching how her hoof scraped the water and cause circles and spatters. ”I think so though..”
When he wades in further and circles her, Kylin turns with him. By the time he comes to a halt he’s completely soaked and she can only laugh softly at him. ”My name is Kylin” she introduces herself next, her head dipping so she could touch his. For the first time she longs to play in the water, like he had one. He seemed so happy, so thrilled, and the little lavender and white girl wants to explore it for herself.
She walks towards the coast, willing her ability to walk on water away, until she’s standing in front of him on the same eye level. ”Yes. My dad-” it sounded still so strange on her tongue ”-claimed it for us.” she tells him, her slightly dished head nodding. "Because of the lake" she adds as she wades deeper into the water. It’s much cooler than she had anticipated and a slight shiver runs down her spine, but it’s a nice cooldown from the burning sun above them. ”Where do you live?” She asks in return.
This time she has to shake her head, telling him she hasn’t. ”No. But I have seen it. The water is so clear and on sunny days it is easy to see!” She’s almost just as enthusiastic about it as he is. The water had always lured her, lured them. She almost invites him to join her on the lake, to walk to the middle and just watch down, but she remembers in time he can’t. ”But you can see the bottom here too” she almost innocently says, scraping her hoof over the sand underneath it. The water didn’t hid anything.
He likes the sound of her laughter, and likes that he'd been the one to make it happen. The black colt is a rather somber fellow for the most part, though from time to time he manages to squeeze a chuckle from his mother. He's rather lacking in companionship when it comes to others his own age though, so perhaps this venture to a new land and coming across Kylin is exactly what he has needed.
As she dips her hoof under the water he watches intently, his soft brown eyes unblinking. He grins when she does it, and follows beside her as she moves back toward the shore. She has to come back under the water (come to his level) and when she does he gives a joyful little buck. The motion sends a spray of water behind him, and as it lands on his hindquarters he squeals and spins away, splashing them both with even more water as he does.
When he catches his breath, Ivar answers that: "I live in Sylva. With the fire trees." It seems utterly boring compared to a glass clear lake. He wades out farther, gesturing for his lavender friend to join him. He cranes his head up as high as he can but the angle is wrong. So he does what seems to be the next most logical thing and stick his head under the water.
Ahh. There it is. The bottom of the lake is still very far away, but beneath the water it seems like a much more reasonable destination. He eyes it for a long time - much too long, really, it's got to be nearly two minutes - and then lifts his head out of the water. The warm summer air is just as sustaining to his lungs as the water had been, and it doesn't occur to him that it is strange thing. Much in the same way that walking under the water had never occurred to Kylin, it seems to be.
"I think I could make it," he tells her, "But maybe once I get to be a better swimmer. My mom says I still need to practice."
Water spatters all around them, like their personal makeshift rain. She likes it. She likes the water. And it looks like Ivar likes it too. That is something else she likes. After all, they did share a passion. She happily runs after him if he takes off after his kick in the water, her laugh soft but as a pleasant sound in the air. By the time they come to a stop, Kylin is soaked. And panting. ”Fire trees?” she asks in between breaths.
She would have to admit it sounded interesting and instantly she was curious to see it with her own eyes. If she had to pick between fire and water, it wouldn’t be a hard choice to make. ”I used to live in Ischia. An island surrounded by sea completely. Though the water wasn’t as clear as this lake’s.” Kylin liked it here, it was calm and just their family. Her mom, dad, Reilly and Kharon. But she liked Ischia too. And the way it was secluded from the rest of Beqanna during high tide.
Without objecting she follows him deeper into the water, her tiny tail flicking and slashing a minimal amount of water around her. Her eyes widen at his action, but then she’s laughing. It looked so funny. Funny enough for Kylin to follow the example he set. But instead of looking at the bottom of the lake, she’s looking at him, and only follows his gaze then. She’s not able to keep up with him and long before he surfaces she has to breath.
Droplets fly around as she shakes herself dry, or attempts to. With the sun shining down on her back she doesn’t mind the wait, just watches Ivar intently, amazed by how long he was able to hold his breath. When his gaze meets hers, she’s looking at him eagerly, waiting for what he could tell her.
”You think?” she asks, eyes widening and she’s lightly jumping on her legs in enthusiasm. ”That would be so awesome!” Perhaps even cooler than her ability to walk on water. But the other side of the grass – or water in this case – was always brighter, right? Kylin reaches out towards him, her muzzle bumping his shoulder as to encourage him. ”You could try an practise? I’ve never really swum before.. is it hard?”
