05-25-2018, 08:18 PM
Ichor has been many things before. Odd. Weird. Fantastic. But never really sad. That was a more recent development and the catalyst had simply been Ivar’s leaving. There was more to it then that of course. Like how she could no longer smell mother or father in any of the free lands. How she’d neither seen nor smelled any of her sisters any more.
It meant Ichor was the last. Maybe the only. This was what made her sad - knowing there wasn’t another like her in all the lands when her family had been large enough to leave traces of themselves somewhere. Not any more. Then he left too and it seemed like Ivar took all the light (both sun and moon) with him when he went. Not to mention the sudden abhorrence of water that she found herself with.
Ivar stole all the joy in the river and swimming with him when he went. Just like her trust because she had always trusted him. Intrinsically so even though there was always something predatory about him that Ichor willfully ignored in favor of him taking a shine to her six-legged weirdness. Considering that six legs weren’t even the half of it! But back to the real-Ivar that she believes is still the imagined tree-Ivar.
His scaly muzzle travels the length of her mane where it sprouts from the neck and she is starting to realize that maybe this isn’t just a tree and some bits of happy-sad imagination. Maybe this is real... it must be real the moment he grabs a strand of hair between his teeth. The tug- the faint fast stab of pain from her knee-jerk reaction tells her this much. No, it could still be a tree that she’s hung up on...
Until the tree talks again. No, not tree - Ivar. He promises he would keep her safe just like the last time. Ichor believes him. She so easily believes him. Especially when he tells her that he’s real, very very real. Finally, she raises her face so that her strange eyes can meet his.
It takes a moment for him - all of his face from his eyes to the gentle smile on his mouth - to come into focus. She sees myriad fragments of him in black and white since he’s piebald. Definitely not a tree! And like the way dawn first breaks across the sky, a goofy grin breaks across Ichor’s lips. “Oh you are real.” stated not exclaimed though the burst of happiness that accompanies it is enough to light up her face.
Her proboscis unfurls to touch the tip of his nose as if it were a flower begging her touch. “Yes, you are real.” she confirms it with a giggle that is almost like the Ichor of old. “I missed you.”
@[Ivar] <3333