07-02-2017, 08:49 AM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take Despite their initial surprise at meeting, it seems the two young horses have settled into amicable conversation. Isobell isn’t looking nearly so startled, and she responds to Ivar’s friendliness in turn. He is accustomed to caution from others, but it seems Isobell is appreciative rather than wary of his unique appearance. “I do,” he replies with a nod. “We met in Nerine, and I just saw him the other day by the river.” A criusp breeze whips through the woods just then, and Ivar shivers. The chill of the water does not bother him, but the air is another story. The piebald boy looks down at the small girl with her quiet voice, and thinks that perhaps it might not be so bad to have a little sibling of his own. He could show them Sylva – and the rest of Beqanna. He could teach them how to swim and run and climb. He does not think that Castile will mind if Ivar practices his ‘big brother’ skills with Isobell. “I’m Ivar,” he tells her. “I live in Sylva.” The admission of his homeland is another positive in his favor; their homes are bound together. Shaking his head clears the water that drips from his mane to his neck. “Are you here by yourself?” With any luck Castile is nearby; Ivar would like to see his friend again. |