10-21-2017, 05:27 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
There are few others he might confide it – Castile is one of them. Kylin is another, and his father. He’s seen neither in nearly a year now, and Castile is the first to ask him how he has wound up here. Everyone else has simply as accepted it with no questions as to his motivation. “There’s no ocean here,” he tells the winged stallion. “I…I lost someone when the sea swallowed Taiga.” His voice is surprisingly even, Ivar finds, perhaps time does heal wounds after all. “Loess was the farthest from the ocean I could get without going home to Sylva.” He’d remembered that fact when he finally surfaced three weeks after the Flood, that and that a friendly mare named Heda was living there after her own earlier departure from the redwood kingdom. The two of them have not discussed the sunken kingdom, but Ivar knows that is for the best. Heda is a soft thing, easily saddened and burdened by her own empathy. Best to keep her protected, he knows, and his devotion to that task has distracted him from his own grief. “I hear she’s gone back to Nerine,” the scaled stallion adds, the change in topic acting as a release of pressure he hadn’t really known he’d been feeling. “I’m sure she’s fine.” The rumors are that they’d disappeared only hours before the Red-Eyed Wraith had come to seize the place, that they’d had prior warning. Ivar knows that it was far more likely his mother’s uncanny ability to be on the winning side of fate. |