07-04-2018, 05:27 PM
 I V A R promising everything i do not mean |
Not on a diplomatic then, Ivar ascertains, else she’d be more interested in finding a legitimate resident of the island kingdom. Perhaps a terrible diplomat though, the kelpie muses, or one in a bad mood. For all her appeal (and Ivar finds everything appealing), her attitude leaves something to be desired. Unfortunately for Breckin (or perhaps fortunately?) the piebald stallion has always been espeically intrigued by women whose sharp tongues match their minds. As she comes closer, Ivar remains where he was standing, though he does reposition his forequarters to better face her, and his mouth twists into a smile as she asks what makes him think she is important. He doesn’t have time answer (he probably wouldn’t have), but the smile becomes a grin as she admits to a position that matches his previous assessment. An advisor, she says. Ivar wonders exactly what she might advise on; it’s certainly not water safety. “I’m Ivar.” He replies, though this time when he smiles that his myriad of sharp teeth line a jaw that is just a little too long, could open a little too wide. His anatomy does not affect that annoying attractiveness that the spotted Nerinian points out; if anything, it is just a component of its entirety. “I’ve just got quite a bit in common with the sharks,” He says, gesturing toward the ocean behind him with a toss of his muzzle. “Though I suppose I could keep them out of your way when you head home. It’s the least I could do for Wishbone. I’m sure she’d vouch for how safe I am.” There’s a brow raise at the third to last word, as though the golden-eyed stallion dares Breckin to contradict him. He doesn’t maintain eye contact for long though, glancing back at the shimmering waves that are just out of reach. “And what does bring you to Ischia, Leviathan?” The name they’d chosen amuses him; it matches so well with the men that call this island home. |
I know my lies could not make you believe in my dark times, baby this is all I could be . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . |