 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take This time he makes it all the way to Hyaline. Around him the water grows colder, reminiscent of the black waters of the northern seas. Ivar does not mind, though there is an uncomfortable feeling of exposure with the surface of the River only ten feet overhead. He must fight a current that is strong with snowmelt, and finds that using his front hooves and clawed hind limbs make traversing the rapid easier. By the time he makes it to the lake, the full moon is high overhead in the pitch dark sky. Ivar floats, belly up at the surface of the water. Only his white face and forelegs are above the water, the rest suspended with the aid of occasional flicks of a long dark tail. He doesn’t quite doze off, but he does startle at the sudden sensation of gravel against his back. The kelpie has drifted to the shallows as he kept his eyes on the moon overhead, and with a snort, he rolls to his opposite side. He feels the stony lakebed beneath his hooves (all of them now, for the water reaches only to his belly here and it would be odd to stand unbalanced. The piebald kelpie shakes the dripping cords of his dark mane away from his fave as he yawns, glancing up and down the nearby lakeshore. The yawn disappears instantly as he senses movement, and the kelpie’s dark ears flick toward the noise as he peers through the darkness to find the source. |
@[Kagerus]