12-21-2017, 02:55 AM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
The sheen of her fin catches his quick eye, and Ivar watches as she touches her neck to it. He would like to do the same, to trace the outline of the translucent appendage, to see exactly how Kylin has changed. Instead, he remains still as she comes closer, closing the space between them with her own curiosity. His breath is held tightly as the lavender mare runs her muzzle against the scales of his tail; Ivar chooses that instead of letting it hitch and reveal his visceral reaction. The kelpie is silent as she stares at him, nothing revealed on his pale face, but as soon as the words “so you did cheat” fall from her lips, he flicks the end of his tail sharply. A spray of water cover them both, breaking over his shoulders as a smile breaks across his face. He’d suspected such a reaction, but there is still a warm sense of relief despite that. She asks about his mother, a topic that he’d broached. It is not a common one for them – it is not a common one for him at all. He does not speak of them. Yet he does. “She was whatever she wanted.” Ivar has never witnessed a conversation between his parents. His memories of his birth are foggy and incomplete; they’d both been there, but he remembers little else. Not since that day had they spoken in front of him; to Ivar’s knowledge they never spoke at all. Despite that, the piebald colt had watched them watch each other, a resigned sort of contentment on each face. “Though I think this is from my father.” Ivar flicks his tail indicatively, glancing back at it for a moment. “Or perhaps it’s some sort of combination.” Who can say how the magics of Beqanna work? minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus |