[open] You Can't Fight Fate [Any] [No Sylva]

[Ivar]

I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take From time to time Ivar considers going back to Sylva. He has not set hoof in the fiery woods in a year and a half. Mother and Father are fine, he is sure; they can take care of themselves. Since the day he had come across Isobell, Ivar has wondered if he might someday have siblings, but he has not returned to check. Someday soon, he keeps telling himself. Someday. Loess though, is today. It seems there are a great many things that he would like to forget. A surprising number truly, for a horse that is not yet even three summers old. Zhenga is barely older, but the soft-eyed mare seems unburdened, and Ivar cannot help but be drawn to her. She is a bright light when he had been treading black water, and the appeal of bringing her along with him is undeniable. Even her teasing has him smiling, looking bashfully at the earth between his front hooves as the roan guesses that the mare he speaks of is more than a friend. He returns her friendly nudge with a bump of his neck against her shoulder. The liveliness in her eyes when Ivar meets her gaze is catching, and the piebald stallion replies in a tone that matches the innocence in her words – if not her eyes. “I mean…I guess so.” He replies hesitantly. “Though I’m pretty sure you’ll slow me down.” The pause is long and pregnant, until he finally adds: “With your short legs, ya’know?” He’s not able to keep the snort of laughter down any longer, and he reaches out to nudge her before turning and sprinting off, a clear “Tag! You’re it!” like the game they had played as children. “Race ya to Loess!” Calls Ivar over his pale shoulder, darting southwest down the long open field. He knows that most of the trip to Loess won’t really be a race. Still, he takes the advantage of this game to choose the slightly longer route to the hilly kingdom. It would be easiest to cut through the no-man’s land between Sylva and the Taiga, but Ivar plans to follow the curve of the mountains west and then north up the coast of Beqanna, avoiding both the drowned redwood forest and his homeland. kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis