10-15-2017, 11:10 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
It is like looking at a reflection – if a reflection were able to stand and move about on it’s own. Ivar feels Heda relax beside him and knows she must see the same thing, as she steps forward to greet this new Ivar that he knows must the red-eyed stallion in disguise. Unaware of the origins of the magic, the scaled stallion can only assume that he has magicked himself into Ivar to gain Heda’s trust. It seems to be working, and Ivar is at a loss as he comes toward himself, feels his own breath. The skin that slides against his does match the scales that Ivar knows, and the pied stallion makes the decisions to doubt his eyes. He snakes his head forward, seeking flesh where he can find it with his sharp teeth. False-Ivar is writhing around him – surely he will find it somewhere. Blood on his teeth or not, Ivar hears what must be Heda releasing herself from the illusion (though he still sees only himself), hears her cursing the wraith and demanding that he stop. Ivar has begun to suspect that words will not be enough with these intruders and so he takes a step away, reaching toward the buckskin mare. “Go,” he tells her, because she has wings and can use them to her advantage. This is no place for his gentle queen; this is his responsibility now. |