06-26-2020, 07:38 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take “You cannot help but meddle where you are not wanted,” Ivar says idly. His golden eyes trace the glittering arch of the magic overhead. He sounds disinterested, though the quick movements of his eyes make it clear that he is anything but. The kelpie probes at the sparkling web, gentler than Brennen expected, and the answering force is a tickle against his scaled nose. Ivar snorts, shaking his head then looking back at the bay stallion with a frown before turning back to where the other pair had disappeared beneath the water. Ivar makes no secret of his dislike of magic, there are few that know it more intimately than the winged stallion in front of him. He scuffs one hoof in the sand, curious to see if the barrier is meant only for the kelpie, or if it will stop anything from passing through. “They really shouldn’t’ve gone without me,” muses the glittering stallion, still sounding disinterested. His manner matches it now, seemingly accepting his imprisonment in this dome with the worst jailer he could imagine. He rolls his shoulders and flicks his dripping tail against his gold speckled hocks. “My sons are rather protective of their mothers, and I didn’t bother to teach them any of the manners that my mother taught me.” They’re feral, he implies, creatures that resemble Ivar and are equally capable of carrying out the dangers that his anatomy implies. He pauses for a moment, as though considering. “Though I think Carwyn managed to domesticate at least a few of hers. I never did thank you for leaving her behind when the Brotherhood abandoned the place, by the way.” Ivar doesn’t thank him now either, but it seems purposeful by the way he keeps a single ear flicked back toward the magician. Ivar is baiting him, and does not mind if Brennen knows. "Maybe they'll be the ones to greet Aquaria and Aodhan." Ivar doesn't sound hopeful. @[Brennen] that if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind |