10-14-2017, 04:24 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
Ivar sees the way she wilts when he pulls away, and he reacts without thought, removing the space between them even as she reaches for him. Kylin should never be sad; that is a certainty of his existence. The pied creature has always been akin to beam of lavender sunlight - bright, cheerful, happy. When she closes her eyes at their contact, Ivar manages to stifle his instinctual reaction, but it is near thing. He does bend his head down, twisting it to place a soft kiss on the thin skin above her throat. It’s a better reaction than the one he’s muffled, the urge to swing a pale leg across her withers and press her down into dark waters until her eyes close in a far more intense sort of pleasure. Friends, he tells himself. Friends. She wants to see the kangaroos, and that will be a distraction. “Kangaroos,” he repeats, “They’re nothing at all like the babies on the beach, but I’m sure there will be some babies there.” Imagining her surprise at seeing exactly where the babies are brings a wider grin to his face. A playful buck releases some of the pent-up pressure he feels, and he jumps forward and toward the west, where the rolling hills are less covered in flora. “They usually stay over this way,” he tells her as he moves forward, winding through the familiar landscape in what he knows will be a quick journey. He slows before the crest a final rise, gesturing for quiet as their procession slows. Below them, a mob of grey kangaroos is browsing or resting in the afternoon sun. Most of the joeys are too large to fit in their mothers’ pouches, but here and there he sees a pair of small ears hiding in pale belly fur. The apparence of these odd creatures is sure to be enough of a surprise for Kylin, so he doesn’t point out the babies quite yet. Instead he watches Kylin, far more interested din her reaction than in the half-dozen animals on the hillside below them. “What’d’ya think?” |