dark side of the morning - Enfys

[Ivar]

i'll use you as a makeshift gauge
of how much to give and how much to take

There is definitely someone there.

It seems they had not noticed him until he’d spoken aloud. The trees block out what little light there is from the slender moon, and the stars are hard to make out through the misty fog. In summer, he supposes the fog would be gone, but the cool temperatures of fall have allowed it to linger. It feels almost solid around him as he moves forward, peering through the darkness until he can make out a pair of bright blue eyes.

They belong to a girl that seems about his age – if a creature made of ice can really have an estimated age. She’s too large to have been born this past spring, and while the cold scent of ice makes it difficult to interpret natural cues, something in the way she speaks hints at her age. Her breathing also sounds rather quick, and while he’d usually keep his distance to be polite,

(startled prey. closer, slowly, you are not a threat)

he draws near.

Ivar gives her a smile, one that does reveal sharp teeth, but they are shaded by the night. Perhaps she will not see.

“I’m on my way home,” he tells her, gesturing through the woods in a direction that could mean any land in Beqanna that lies beyond the forest. His dark eyes turn back to her, and he traces the glittering lines of her transparent figure with open curiosity.

“You look like you might be important,” he tells her, “Unless all you Taigans are like…that?” He bobs his head, gesticulating to her entire transparent self. They aren’t, he knows, he had met Heda and she was as solid as any other horse he’d seen. The buckskin mare had been winged though – perhaps residents of this forest are all something special? Ivar smiles, and for a brief moment his plain face is something more. He’s not mature, not yet, but as he ages more and more of his nature slips through.

(gentle. slowly. do not startle it again.)

He glances up at the moon, which has moved only slightly since he emerged from the water. He has hours still to make it home he decides, and looks back at the blue eyed horse.

“Does your father often find children in the Meadow?” He asks

IVAR