07-07-2017, 07:16 AM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take A whicker in the otherwise still night catches Ivar’s attention. Turning, he sees a buckskin mare coming closer. For a moment he thinks she’s coming towards him, but he follows the line of her gaze to see that it’s the little black mare she has her eye on. He doesn’t blame her, and is even glad at the thought of more company. Having returned Nova Star’s smile, he waits for the skewbald mare to come close. Identifying her home doesn’t take long; he doesn’t even have to hear Tang say it. She smells of Hyaline, of the mountains and the flowering forests. There’s also an acrid scent of smoke, fading but undeniable. The fire, he remembers; the kingdom must be recovering swiftly if they’ve recruiters out in the field already. That’s good to know, he decides, and smiles warmly at the overo mare. The black mare speaks next ,introducing herself as Nova Star – Nova. Fitting on a dark night, he thinks as he eyes the stars on the distant horizon. Attentatively listening to her story, the young stallion does his best to picture the land she speaks of. If anything, it sounds like Hyaline (minus the central lake). Nova will like Hyaline, he surmises, but perhaps she’s left home and is looking for something a little different. When she says as much, he brightens. Ivar has met few fellow adventurers. When catches Nova’s gaze on his scales again, the young stallion stills his occasional shuffling. “Not especially,” he tells her honestly, “Better than a summer coat against the winter, but I’d prefer to be in the water.” She apologizes for her curiosity, and Ivar brushes it away with a grin and a shake of his head. “No no,” he says, “I’m not offended at all.” The black mare seems rather adept at conversation, something that a boy raised in near silence can appreciate. Ivar is quiet as she speaks to Tang again, and he nods absentmindedly at her assessment of Hyaline. It is a beautiful kingdom. Definitely worth visiting. “I’m from Sylva,” he tells her, “The forest in the middle of Beqanna.” She’s new, he reminds himself as soon as she’s said it; she’s probably no idea where the middle of Beqanna is. “Over there,” he adds, gesturing to the west with his pale muzzle. As he gestures, his brown eyes spot the approaching stallion. He’s missed Terran’s descent, but he watches the winged stallion’s approach with bright-eyed interest. It’s clear the black stallion is coming toward them, and Ivar readily steps a bit to the side to offer him a place in their company. Standing beside the other stallion, Ivar doesn’t have to wonder about why the stallion lacks the scent of any single land for long. He’s looking for a home himself, it seems, and has come to see if Nova Star might join him. It’s not a bad offer, Ivar thinks, though he realizes belatedly that he’s the only one that’s not offered Nova Star something. “You’re welcome in Sylva, too.” He says, careful that he doesn’t not speak over Terran. The offer is genuine (all are welcome in Sylva), but it is difficult to push away the spark of excitement that he’d felt when he thought that perhaps she might share his thirst for adventure. He decides that it is worth the risk. “Though if you’d like to see more of Beqanna before you decide where to stay, I’d love to have someone to travel with.” |