09-14-2017, 11:25 AM
Ichor can feel the awkwardness of the situation building. It feels like a pressure inside her too, that stifles the air in the lungs and makes the blood sluggish in the veins. That could be her natural aversion to daylight too, that does that but she thinks it is the awkward hilarity (there is a certain amount of hilarity in the beautiful meeting the beast and the silence that ensues) mounting that doesn’t help much either. She blinks her compound bug eyes, losing him as he fractures into a hundred or more different pieces of black and white that she tries to reassemble before the next blink has him gone again. Truth be told, she’s surprised he’s still there at all.
Only mother and father had known or guessed at what she might look like. She had been born so normal after the Mountain moved everything all around. That’s how she’d come across a couple of sisters, normal as can be and not an ounce of weirdness to them. Ichor hadn’t realized then that she might have actually been beautiful as only a normal foal could be. She thought beauty was the way her father looked in full moth-horse dress or mother with her gills and lamprey mouth dripping water and river-weed from her strange skin. Ichor knew she was like them, somehow, despite how normal she’d been at birth.
She knew something was always missing until the Mountain simply gave it back while she was sleeping. What Ichor didn’t realize, is that now, as fantastic as she thought herself to be, others might not think the same as she did. They might find her very odd and because of it, shun her but he’s still here. He - him - Ivar, because he has told her his name and there is importance in that, however scant it might be but she believes there is. If he had no intentions of staying, of talking to her, he wouldn’t have even given her that much. Because of it, Ichor takes a deep spine-steeling breath and stands a little straighter given that he’s much taller than she is.
“I’m equus lepidoptera, or a moth horse is the easiest way to understand it.” Ichor is happy to educate him on what she is. There is even a quirk to her lips that could be considered a smile given that her odd tongue seems to be poking out again. (It gets in the way, a lot.) “Dad is just like me, equus lepidoptera. Mom is equus lampetra, meaning she’s a lamprey horse which is why I have the gills. I haven’t tried them out yet but for all intents and purposes, they should work as I’d expect them to.” Here, a tilt of her head because she is considering the river and her gills, if they’d really allow her to breathe underwater. She’s a bit scared, since a moderate dose of fear is good for the health of brain and body but at the same time… Ichor doesn’t want to accidentally drown herself.
The glint of light on his body catches her compound eyes and she refocuses on him, almost stretching her neck out a bit just so she can see him better. It kind of looked liked he had scales too, not small and flaky like hers as her eyesight grows more detailed and picks up on the smooth hardness of his. Hm, fish or dragon, she thinks to herself before blurting out - “You have scales!” because her eyes are becoming more detailed the more she concentrates on focusing on him, or his fur and scales to be more specific. “But you still pass for normal enough though.” There is almost a trace of wistfulness to her voice, because she was once normal and in meeting him, thinks maybe normal is easier than being fantastic and frightening.
Only mother and father had known or guessed at what she might look like. She had been born so normal after the Mountain moved everything all around. That’s how she’d come across a couple of sisters, normal as can be and not an ounce of weirdness to them. Ichor hadn’t realized then that she might have actually been beautiful as only a normal foal could be. She thought beauty was the way her father looked in full moth-horse dress or mother with her gills and lamprey mouth dripping water and river-weed from her strange skin. Ichor knew she was like them, somehow, despite how normal she’d been at birth.
She knew something was always missing until the Mountain simply gave it back while she was sleeping. What Ichor didn’t realize, is that now, as fantastic as she thought herself to be, others might not think the same as she did. They might find her very odd and because of it, shun her but he’s still here. He - him - Ivar, because he has told her his name and there is importance in that, however scant it might be but she believes there is. If he had no intentions of staying, of talking to her, he wouldn’t have even given her that much. Because of it, Ichor takes a deep spine-steeling breath and stands a little straighter given that he’s much taller than she is.
“I’m equus lepidoptera, or a moth horse is the easiest way to understand it.” Ichor is happy to educate him on what she is. There is even a quirk to her lips that could be considered a smile given that her odd tongue seems to be poking out again. (It gets in the way, a lot.) “Dad is just like me, equus lepidoptera. Mom is equus lampetra, meaning she’s a lamprey horse which is why I have the gills. I haven’t tried them out yet but for all intents and purposes, they should work as I’d expect them to.” Here, a tilt of her head because she is considering the river and her gills, if they’d really allow her to breathe underwater. She’s a bit scared, since a moderate dose of fear is good for the health of brain and body but at the same time… Ichor doesn’t want to accidentally drown herself.
The glint of light on his body catches her compound eyes and she refocuses on him, almost stretching her neck out a bit just so she can see him better. It kind of looked liked he had scales too, not small and flaky like hers as her eyesight grows more detailed and picks up on the smooth hardness of his. Hm, fish or dragon, she thinks to herself before blurting out - “You have scales!” because her eyes are becoming more detailed the more she concentrates on focusing on him, or his fur and scales to be more specific. “But you still pass for normal enough though.” There is almost a trace of wistfulness to her voice, because she was once normal and in meeting him, thinks maybe normal is easier than being fantastic and frightening.