"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
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
Kylin had not immediately taken the piebald stallion up on his offer to stay in Loess, but other mares have been less reluctant. They are passable substitutes, intriguing ways to pass the time as he waits for Isobell to return from Nerine.
It has taken longer than he had expected, but he is more inclined to patience with her than he would be with most others.
One of those others is Kylin, and Ivar has not forgotten his offer to visit her in Ischia. It seems he has more time on his hands than anticipated, so on one bright spring morning the piebald creature sets off for the island realm. He moves beneath the sea, quiet and unobserved by the vast majority of the island’s inhabitants. He waits, biding his time, until Jylin comes to the shore. He had known she would – she always does – and when she does the stallion emerges from the water and onto the white sands with a shake of his scaled body.
He has not been here since he was a child. Ahead of him, the thick jungle of the main island is just as he remembers it, and the heavy smell of hibiscus is carried by the wind.
“Kylin.” Calls the black and white stallion, certain that she’ll have spotted him by now. “Kylin!” The beach around them is otherwise empty, and the crash of the surf drowns out any words spoken at normal volume, His own voice is pitched to be heard, and he offers the lavender and white mare a friendly smile.
kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis minimal grullo tobiano king of loess
11-21-2017, 02:55 PM (This post was last modified: 11-22-2017, 02:12 PM by Kylin.)
kylin
html code by Toli, design idea based on "Dovev" by Laura
Like a flower waiting to bloom.
The arrival of once strangers had shaken Ischia up. She hadn’t spoken to all of them yet, but both Circinae and Krone had approached her. At first she had wanted to hide from them, to just ignore their presence, but the more time passed by, the weirder that became. By now Kylin understood they weren’t going to leave.
They wouldn’t make her leave either, and secretly, she liked it that she no longer was the only one there. The disappearance of her family had left her quite lonely.
Luckily she had one rock in the wild sea that was her life. His call isn’t entirely unexpected, after all, Ivar had promised her to come to visit and he had never broken a promise made to her. As her eyes search his black and white scaled form, her answer is already carried towards him by the wind.
Kylin doesn’t waste time and spends no effort as she hurries herself towards the sea. ”Ivar!” she greets him as a wide smile tugs at the corners of her lips. It’s impossible for her to express how happy she is to see a familiar face. ”You came.” She steps forward, invading his personal space without really realising it, and her muzzle is pressed against his neck. Oh, she liked the smell of the salt laced with his. ”You finally smell like the sea again” she teases him when she pulls back, her hazel eyes searching his. Kylin keeps her fins at her side, like one would fold his or her wings. It is not on her mind that he hadn't seen the new addition yet, as the fins were are very much a part of her.
”How are you?” There are so many things she wants to ask. How Loess is, if he settled in as new king, and how he deals with all responsibilities of the title. She combines it in one simple, short question. Kylin tilts her slightly dished head a little to the side, with Ivar in the center of the attention.
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
The sun brightens the opalescent glow of his white scales, and with the rivulets of water still streaming down his hide, Ivar all but glistens. The Isxhian wind tugs at the sodden length of his corded mane, and Ivar takes a deep breath of the hibiscus scented air.
This island has always seemed like a paradise.
In his time away, the kelpie always manages to convince himself that it is nostalgia that gives the place its ethereal quality, but as Ivar stands on the shoreline he knows that is not true.
The warm climate, white sand beaches, and the sea. Oh, the sea. It stretches endlessly into the horizon and Ivar feels a forgotten –though not uncomfortable – pressure in his chest. It feels like Sylva, like childhood, like home. The sensation melds well with Kylin’s appearance. Ivar returns the lavender mare’s enthusiastic embrace with equal affection, breathing in her familiar scent even as she teases him about him own.
“It’s been…oh!” Whatever the tall horse had been about to say is lost in his sudden shift in attention. Dark brown and curious, his eyes trace the sleek fins that are pressed to Kylin’s side. “What are those?” The dun stallion steps around her side to get a better look at her wings, feeling his weight sinking into the warm sand. “Are they wings? Or..?”
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king of loess minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus
html code by Toli, design idea based on "Dovev" by Laura
Like a flower waiting to bloom.
It is like every time she sees him, he is getting more and more handsome. For now Kylin blames it on the sun, who’s rays brighten him up and almost cast a kind of halo or aura around him. And once again she has to remind herself that they are just friends, nothing more. Though that doesn’t show in the way she presses herself closer against his scaled form as they embrace.
Her eyes fall closed as she draws in one last deep breath, just to smell him. Oh yes, the salt really smelled good on him. Kylin finds herself humming softly as he starts to reply, but his surprised ‘oh’ has her looking up. As her head tilts a little her fins move slightly, like one would naturally ruffle his wings. ”What are what..?” she asks, then bending her neck as he steps away so she can look to what he was referring to. ”Oh.” Her fins.
His intense stare over flusters her a little. For a moment – to allow Ivar to closely observe – she spreads her fins, only to pull them flush against her side again a little while later. Transparent and matching there are light lavender lines and spots. But before she can look back to him, he asks if they are wings, and Kylin cannot help it but to laugh softly as she shakes her head. ”No, not wings. Fins, for swimming only” she tells him with a slight grin.
Perhaps now they could go and swim in the sea together. Last time Ivar had visited Ischia he had learned her how to swim, and although she’s sure that he still is a better swimmer, now she finally dared to hope that she maybe, just maybe, could keep up. ”And? What do you think of them?” she asks, a mix between a smile and grin upon her lips. Though soon it falters, suddenly very aware of his eyes upon her form. Maybe he didn’t like the new addition she had gained somewhere after she had returned from her visit to Loess.
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
All those years ago, Kylin had requested his friendship. Ivar had offered more but she had turned him down, favoring her brother in a way that Ivar did not entirely understand. (He still does not, but he does not think of it anymore). Again in Loess, Ivar had asked and been declined for the second time.
It is becoming something of a pattern in Ivar’s life: the women he finds the most intriguing are those who have the audacity to think for themselves.
Kylin canters toward him across the sand, embracing him warmly. He melts into her for as long as she lets him, able to suppress the quiet murmur that suggests he take more. She is like a friend, so close as to almost be a sibling. (Ivar’s track record with younger ‘sisters’ could soon become atrocious). Yet she is also something more, something better.
The kelpie has always considered her not-prey, but as his eyes trace the fins erupting from her sides, he realizes she is something more.
They are transparent, with translucent streaks of lavender that match Kylin’s piebald hide. She spreads them proudly for only a moment, and then pulls them back flush to her sides. She hesitates, and her smile falters as she asks what he thinks of them. It is not her disappointment that thrills him, rather it is the idea that his thoughts on her fins matter enough to make her react so strongly to the potential that he might not like them.
The unexpected emotional reaction is surprise enough, and when coupled with the startling physiological thrill at the sight of her wings it removes any hesitation the kelpie might have had about pressing his suit again.
“Kylin.” He says, reaching out to brush her cheek with the scaled smoothness of his muzzle. “Kylin, they’re beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like them.”There is sincerity in his tone, and it is echoed in the care – nay, reverence – that he uses when moving closer to her fins. He inspects them for a moment and glances up with a question in his eyes.
“Can we swim? I want to see you use them.” She’ll comply, Ivar is certain she will, and he pulls away and toward the beach. “C’mon,” he says with a laugh and a toss of his head. “I’ll race you to that island over there.”
king of loess minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus
html code by Toli, design idea based on "Dovev" by Laura
Like a flower waiting to bloom.
She occasionally still does think of her brother, but no longer in the way she used to. Kharon was gone, just like everybody else in their family. He is only a ghost of the past, and although she misses him, he is now in the past. And becoming an adult had changed her too.
One of the few things that hadn’t changed in her life was Ivar’s presence. Perhaps they didn’t met each other as often as she would like, he was still there. And Kylin still enjoyed his company. Though right now she’s looking at the scaled piebald, a mix of hesitance, hope and fear in her eyes as she awaits his reaction.
And when he does, addressing her by her name, her heart skips a beat. Her eyes are focussed on Ivar only. When her lips curl up into a flustered and warm smile, her eyes lit up, not failing to convey the very same emotion. Her cheek tingles, and the praise has her casting her gaze down for a short moment. The word ‘really?’ lies on her lips, but Kylin manages to keep them sealed. She doesn’t know what to say or do. Nobody but Kharon had never before told her she’s beautiful – even though Ivar only refers to a part of her, it still very much affects her.
He doesn’t fail to break through it. Her smile becomes less flustered and more enthusiastic, how could it not? Kylin would never pass up an invitation to swim, especially not coming from her swim instructor. ”I’d love to!” she tells him, following him as he turns towards the sea. Falling in step with him, her nose at his shoulder, she turns to bump her muzzle against him. ”Sure you are up for it? Not afraid you’re completely out of shape?” After all, Loess didn’t have water like Ischia had.
For a moment her eyes meet his, the grins till tugging at the corners of her lips, and then she’s off. The sand on this part of the beach is heavy, making her gallop slower than what it could’ve been, but once she reaches wet and sturdier sand, Kylin speeds up. The next resistance is formed by the water, but she doesn’t once hesitate, nor glance across her shoulder. She knows Ivar is on her heels.
An electric bolt runs down her spine, as always when she dives into the water. Waves wash over her white and lavender coat. It’s like coming home. Her fins spread themselves, trembling slightly when meeting the resistance of the water. Then they move, pushing her body forward as her legs work in an attempt to keep up and move with them. Water splashes up, wetting her head, but it doesn’t bother her, as long as the salt didn’t get in her eyes.
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
Ivar has always been a lean creature, and it is only during the most recent spring that he truly lost the last vestiges of visible youth. As slight as always, there is now more visible muscle to kelpie, more height to his dark crested neck and a less frequent smile on his mouth. There are too many springs in Loess for Ivar to have remained oblivious to the maturity now reflected in his physical appearance, but he does not feel entirely like an adult yet. He does not know his purpose yet, nor what he wants beyond his immediate thirst and hungers.
He knows that he wants Kylin, and that he wants her in more than the easiest way.
She’d give in, he knows as he meets her flustered gaze, watches the brightness in her eyes. But he wants more than that. He wants her to be satisfied as well, wants her to be happy and safe. The dueling needs would be more frustrating later in the year, but on this summer day they are easy to ignore.
Today he can do what he wants to, and not just what he needs to.
It has been some time since he last swam, Kylin’s teasing is accurate. Yet as the piebald kelpie slides beneath the water it feels as if no time has passed at all. If anything, it seems almost easier than ever to swim.
Kylin pulls ahead of him in their race as Ivar slips through the water, his front hooves scraping against the sea floor. The kelpie tries to pushes off toward the surface with his hind legs, but finds that his hooves have become a tail, sleek and scaled like the rest of his body. He flicks it, much like he’d buck, and he spirals through the water faster than he could have imagined.
Grinning, but far beyond questioning the magic that lives inside Beqanna (and apparently himself), Ivar catches up with the purple mare. He watches her fins as she swims overhead, marveling at their construction, and then races ahead, pulling himself up onto shore and finding that his tail is absent above water, and that he leaves four familiar hoof prints along the beach of the smaller island.
“I think I’m still in pretty good shape,” He replies when she catches up, though he does not hide his heavier breathing.
king of loess minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus
ooc: so i decided to make this when ivar realizes he has a tail in water
html code by Toli, design idea based on "Dovev" by Laura
Like a flower waiting to bloom.
She reaches the water before he does, but she is very aware that Ivar is hot on her heels. Right now she doesn’t think of what would and what would not please him. She doesn’t worry about what he will think, not when Kylin is trying to beat him at his own game. After all, Ivar had been the one who had learned her how to swim.
Though Kylin had been in and around water a lot, she hadn’t been swimming a lot. Her fins move the water around in a much more effective way than her legs ever could, and although she is faster than an equine should be in the water, Ivar races past her. No way that she would let that happen! Using all the strength her muscles can gather she pushes herself forward, on instinct her legs fold under her belly and her body rises above the water, gliding across the surface until gravity wins over speed.
Sadly it’s not enough to for her to catch up. When he reaches the beach Kylin is still up sea. Unable to reach the sea floor yet, she forces herself up. Each step is a little higher, and by the time she reaches the shore the lavender and white woman is walking on top of the water. Like Ivar she’s panting, her whole body screaming for oxygen after the use of energy. ”Impossible” she teases him with a grin, though she shakes her head as if she truly believes that. ”There is no way you could’ve won without cheating.”
Not being able to breath underwater she was forced to keep her head above the surface, and even if she would hold her breath and dive, her eyes would squint because of the salty water. There was no way Kylin could’ve noticed his fish tail, she’d only been allowed a glimpse of it when he had raced past her. But even if that was cheating, her own fins would probably fit in the same category.
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
Shaking off the excess water, Ivar moves down the beach. A few dozen meters beyond where they’ve emerged, the white sand is shaded by the fan leaves of a stand of peach palms. The black and white stallion gestures in that direction, nickering a request for her to follow. When Ivar reaches the shade, he drops his right shoulder and rolls onto the ground. His back hooves are submerged in the surf, and the gentle waves dampen the sand up to his hips. It is cooler here beneath the trees, but Ivar still enjoys the feel of the water. The white sand clings to his dark sides, but it is fairly visible on the opalescent scales of the long forelegs stretched out in front of him.
“Cheating.” He repeats with a smile that is mostly internal. Perhaps he had been; he’d certainly used means beyond those of a normal equine. They are perfectly within his own grasp, of course, easy for the creature that he has become. He concentrates for a moment, remembering the feel of the sea against him as he raced beneath the surface. The change is smooth and instantaneous, the distinction between his hindlegs vanish as they meld into a single tail. His dark hindquarters now fade into a white tipped limb capable of propelling him through the water at impressive speeds.
Ivar has the feeling that it would be rather ungainly trying to move with it on land – hence lying down before trying it.
The piebald creature cranes his head to look back at it, glancing toward Kylin, who has only just recently revealed her own recent physical development.
“I think I know why my dad like my mom’s dolphin form so much,” Ivar muses, casually breaking his habit of never speaking of his family. It is easier to never speak of them, but as he had sped through the water beneath Kylin, he had known. Born an unremarkable little colt, the stallion has changed with each passing year, until he is all but unrecognizable as the boy he had once been.
Kylin still knows that boy though, Ivar realizes as he searches her eyes for a reaction. She has seen him through his maturation (at least the physical one – other parts of himself he refuses to let surface), and the lavender and white mare’s opinion on things is one that he values.
king of loess minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus
html code by Toli, design idea based on "Dovev" by Laura
Like a flower waiting to bloom.
Off course she follows him towards the shade. It is as much part of her nature as her gentle soul, and Kylin doesn’t second guess it. He is her friend and right now he is also the only one she’s trusts blindly. ”Cheating” she repeats with a teasing smile as she settles herself in the shade next to him. Her left hindleg is coaxed up in a resting pose and her neck bends in favour of touching her fin. When wet, they reflect the sunlight.
When her gaze moves back to Ivar her lips part to speak, to ask him if he perhaps went to a change like herself and hadn’t told her about it yet, but she is caught off guard by what she sees. Her parted lips find one another again as her hazel eyes are fixated on Ivar’s hindlegs, or, scratch that, fish tail.
Without realising it the lavender and white girl moves closer, her nose dipping closer to the sand as she extends her neck to reach out. Kylin doesn’t think of minding personal space, like they still are the children they once were. Her muzzle touches sleek scales, smooth and slippery to her touch. Slowly her gaze moves up, to meet his, and for a couple of moments she just stares at Ivar. Then her lips curl up, teasing. ”So you did cheat.”
It is not her own teasing that makes her laugh softly. The look upon her features is a cross between amusement and curiosity. ”Your mother is a dolphin?” Kylin could only imagine what it would be like to be free in the water like a dolphin. Not bound by depth, or the need of air, one with the sea. Ivar was, or could be, but Kylin would never be free like that. ”Did you get your tail from her? I wish I could’ve seen you swimming…” Or join him like that for that matter.
