 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take The way Thana traces the line of his throat, the hunger in her eyes; he has seen that look before. He knows it, knows instinctively to doubt the flat teeth revealed when the blue mare had spoken before, and now when she speaks to drive the knife of the Taiga deeper into Heda. The muttered words of the mare beside go unheeded as he observes the small mare searching for his weakest point.Rather than cower, instead of shrinking away and lowering his head to protect his pulsing jugular, he smiles. It's the first time he's done so since joining the entourage, and it transforms his solemn face. Scowling as he had been, Ivar was striking, but now that he smiles there is a beauty to his features that exceeds nature. It is a lure, irresistible bait for his hooved prey. It is fortunate then, that he doesn't use it against the little roan mare. The smile (amused, as if she is a pup playing wolf for his benefit) widens to a grin as he raises his head. A taunt and a tease, he reveals his throat to Thana, every inch of him transmitting a nonverbal: (try me) It is enough to pull him from his unassuming shell, from the role of quiet protector. It was never his intention to appear threatening, and so of course they do not fear him. Not yet. Even now he seems cocky, too sure of himself, surely nothing more than a strikingly handsome fool. When the wraith addresses him, pulling the truth from ten thousand more likely possibilities, he only nods. He had seen it, seen Azar pulled beneath the water, heard the fey cry that "Enough" had been done. They had been told to run, all of them; no distinction between one side and the other. The tale these strangers spin of the cause of destruction melds with his own recollection, but there is no need for the barbs in their retelling, no need for the blame they place solely on the purple wolf. "Go back to your kingdom," Ivar tells them, taking another step forward (almost lazily) to be between Gryffen and Heda again, knowing that he is cutting the buckskin mare off from the heart of the conversation. "Come back with better manners, next time, or do not come back at all." His tone matches his body language: sure of himself, incredibly sure, but completely without the bravado of unnecessary posturing. Ivar has never minded playing the fool. He is taking away Heda's autonomy, attempting to send away those strangers with a command only she should truly issue. The pied stallion does not regret his actions; this is not news that Heda should ever hear from strangers. He should have told her - that he regrets - but the time for that is past. Best rid Loess of these chaotic interlopers and then deal with the potential repercussions of insubordination (and of secret keeping). "Go. Tend to your kingdom before the fey take that one from you as well." |
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