09-20-2017, 12:38 PM
They're not diplomats, that much is clear.
Ivar shifts beside Heda, the shoulder that was pressed reassuringly to her golden side now tense beneath his scaled hide.
The simpering of the roan mare is grating both to his dark ears and to the open wound that is the Taiga, Ivar grits his teeth as he watches the curve of Heda's face for a reaction. A moment ago, he believed them emissaries of a sort, but the more they speak the more he doubts their intentions.
Still, he means to stand back, and manages to do so for a decent while, at least until the mare with feathers in her hair begins to creep closer. The flame colored mare has not added anything to the taunts of her companions, but her physical proximity is enough to serve as a sufficient challenge.
The red-eyed stallion speaks again, and it seems to Ivar that he expects Heda to have as little care taking turns in conversation as he does. Ivar, who usually follows the same patterns, has had enough.
"She asked what you wanted."
He says, moving forward and in slightly in front of Heda, tired of the volley of words and irritates by the attitudes of these strangers.
Ivar knows that it is not his place to speak, but it is also not these foreigners' place at all - they do not live here, they were not invited here, and they seem to have no purpose of any sort.
"Either answer, or leave."
He is careful - very careful - to appear nonthreatening. Let them think him weak; he has no need to impress them.
Ivar shifts beside Heda, the shoulder that was pressed reassuringly to her golden side now tense beneath his scaled hide.
The simpering of the roan mare is grating both to his dark ears and to the open wound that is the Taiga, Ivar grits his teeth as he watches the curve of Heda's face for a reaction. A moment ago, he believed them emissaries of a sort, but the more they speak the more he doubts their intentions.
Still, he means to stand back, and manages to do so for a decent while, at least until the mare with feathers in her hair begins to creep closer. The flame colored mare has not added anything to the taunts of her companions, but her physical proximity is enough to serve as a sufficient challenge.
The red-eyed stallion speaks again, and it seems to Ivar that he expects Heda to have as little care taking turns in conversation as he does. Ivar, who usually follows the same patterns, has had enough.
"She asked what you wanted."
He says, moving forward and in slightly in front of Heda, tired of the volley of words and irritates by the attitudes of these strangers.
Ivar knows that it is not his place to speak, but it is also not these foreigners' place at all - they do not live here, they were not invited here, and they seem to have no purpose of any sort.
"Either answer, or leave."
He is careful - very careful - to appear nonthreatening. Let them think him weak; he has no need to impress them.