10-08-2017, 01:31 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
On an even level, Ivar’s brown eyes easily catch the surprise in her amethyst gaze. Surprise and something else, something he cannot quite put a name to. It doesn’t ever occur to him that it might be recognition – she is just a child, after all, and he has certainly never seen her before. “Night time is not a good time to go exploring,” he admonishes, and is surprised to hear an echo is his father’s voice in his words. Isn’t that the same thing that he had told a curious young Ivar? He’d caught him sneaking off in the dead of a crisp fall night, when Ivar had been doing his best to keep quiet. “Does your mother know you’re out here?” He pauses, frowning for a moment in concern. “You do have a mother, don’t you?” She must ,he reasons ,she’s said that she’s come from the River and not the Den,. So surely someone is watching out for her. Not watching very well, he decides, not if she’s cavorting about in strange lands in the dark of the night. “I live here, little star girl” he tells her. “This is Loess.” Then, because he’s not cold hearted or at all tired, and because it has not been terribly long since he was adventuring himself, he adds: “The bats are going to come out of that cave over there any minute. If we run, you might be able to wake them up a little early.” Ivar has always enjoyed spooking the bats and watching them soar out in a great living wave, and he supposes that a child who thinks night time exploring is a good idea might also be the kind of child who likes bats. |