Ichor is a strange thing, but she is far from the strangest thing that Ivar has found. There are fish with bulbous eyes that make hers seem minuscule, and a freakish little brown duck-rat in the far south that seems much more odd than a moth-horse. She is still recognizably equine, and that is all the kelpie needs.
The champagne mare admits her disadvantage and Ivar grins in response, as amused by her rusty swimming skills as he is by the idea that there was ever a time when he does not have the advantage. Ivar has had the upper hand since their first meeting, though his internal confusion as to wether or not she was prey has leveled the field more than he might have suspected.
She should be prey, with her thin skin and hot blood, but she slips beneath the surface as easily as Ivar does, breathing the water as easily as if it were air. Far from graceful beneath the water, the kelpie still watches Ichor with a curious sort of wonder. She does not look as though she belongs beneath the water. Yet as the kelpie swims forward and circles beneath her, his scaled white muzzle reaches out for the gills at the side of her neck.
His touch lingers, because he had seen the way she’d glanced away at his touch before. It occurs to him as his lips slide down the muscle of her neck and shoulder, that Ichor had still been rather young when he’d brought her back. Had that been the reason for his disinterest in hunting her? He considers a handful of methods to answer the question, but none seem quite right.
Might as well get the daisy, he decides.
In a moment, anyway. He still waits to see how she’ll react to his inquisitive touch.
look at her being all brave and bold lol
@[Ichor]
The champagne mare admits her disadvantage and Ivar grins in response, as amused by her rusty swimming skills as he is by the idea that there was ever a time when he does not have the advantage. Ivar has had the upper hand since their first meeting, though his internal confusion as to wether or not she was prey has leveled the field more than he might have suspected.
She should be prey, with her thin skin and hot blood, but she slips beneath the surface as easily as Ivar does, breathing the water as easily as if it were air. Far from graceful beneath the water, the kelpie still watches Ichor with a curious sort of wonder. She does not look as though she belongs beneath the water. Yet as the kelpie swims forward and circles beneath her, his scaled white muzzle reaches out for the gills at the side of her neck.
His touch lingers, because he had seen the way she’d glanced away at his touch before. It occurs to him as his lips slide down the muscle of her neck and shoulder, that Ichor had still been rather young when he’d brought her back. Had that been the reason for his disinterest in hunting her? He considers a handful of methods to answer the question, but none seem quite right.
Might as well get the daisy, he decides.
In a moment, anyway. He still waits to see how she’ll react to his inquisitive touch.
look at her being all brave and bold lol
@[Ichor]