05-20-2018, 04:53 PM
There is not a single part of her that even considers leaving Ischia. Her pregnancy hadn’t kept her to the island until the very last stages, but now she wouldn’t dare to leave. Ischia is safe, that she cannot say of other places beyond the island. It is all Kylin knows, and she loves her home, but she does get terribly lonely sometimes. The Brotherhood allowed her to stay, which she is grateful for, but sometimes it is like she is there, but at the same time isn’t.
Her only true comfort comes in the form of water. Though she does no longer go out to swim, or take a walk on top of the sea’s surface, there is nothing in the world that could separate her from it. She stands ankle deep into the water. It is still fresh, from the winter that affected the other lands, and through them, the sea. It soothes her sore – swollen – legs, and the light breeze offers some coolness. Like that, Kylin dozes underneath the warm spring sun.
His sudden appearance should have scared her. Even though Ischia is a peaceful place – with only parrots sharing the island with the equine – danger lurks everywhere. Today, however, Kylin does not have to worry about it. Her ears turn into his direction, picking up the sound of droplets falling back down onto the sea’s surface. His scent is next, laced with salt and some things she cannot pinpoint. Upon the touch, his muzzle on her withers, a soft sight escapes past her pale lips. Without opening her eyes she leans into his touch, relaxing the last few tense muscles in her body as she softly murmurs his name. “Ivar.”’
Her fins tremble light, and move out of his way, so his skin is in direct contact to hers. She wants to have him close, she wants him to hold her, like she had been hold too little lately. “I have missed you too..” she replies, her neck bending as she reaches out to touch a scaled hip. He feels both cold and warm underneath her touch, just as she remembers, and before long she finds herself angling her body differently, so she can lean against him, almost into him. Many questions lie on her lips. Why did you leave? Where have you been? Did I do something wrong? But she asks none of them, afraid that those questions will scare him away. She needs him, as much as he needs her right now, and honestly, the present is of much more value than the past. Even if her side is swollen with another’s child. All of them owning a part of her heart. So instead she asks; “How are you?”
@[Ivar]