08-18-2018, 08:23 PM
Though the rough scales of Ivar's sides are not especially sensitive, so when he feels the repetitive click, he glances down to find a rather gruesome sight. The bones of Sabra's ribcage jut out sharply, covered only by a thin layer of bruised skin. This time of year, she should be sleek and well-fed, not looking like a walking skeleton. The flat laugh the erupts from her throat at Ivar's attempt at humor is unexpected, but the kelpie supposes that it might be a sign that she is not entirely broken.
Indeed, she wants to stand on her own in short order. For a moment, Ivar can picture the mare that he'd met alongside the river, though he blinks and she is the battered thing in front of him once more. The piebald stallion can see Raul and Santana from the corner of his eye, hovering just far enough away from their mother to satisfy her request.
Sabra compliments his child rearing and he takes another, longer look at them. He'd not done much, truly. Ensuring the island was safe from outsiders, that the water along the shore was free of hungry mouths. Life is not difficult on a tropic isle. Food and water are plentiful, and the days are always long and warm. For the most part, he leaves them to their own devices, knowing from the tracks they leave across the small western island where and how they have been.
"If you'll take them off my hands, I'll consider us even." He replies, having stepped away to give Sabra the space she wanted. He is still close - close enough to catch her - but not so near as to infringe on her movement. A half step behind, he walks with her to the shallow pool. Just large enough to hold a horse lying on their side, the spring is fed from a freshwater aquifer somewhere beneath the ocean's floor. The output of the spring is rather quick, and Ivar isn't worried that Sabra might contaminate their water. For a moment he follows the line of the running water back to the shore with his golden eyes, but soon turns them back to Sabra.
"Would you like to be alone?" The question is asked in a tone more somber than the jesting of moments before. There's no pity in it - Ivar's ability to empathize has always been minimal at best - but there is something almost like concern in his metallic gaze. "The boys and I can stand guard," he offers, uncertain how she might react. There is no telling what she has been subjected to, but Ivar knows the value of having someone to watch when he is unable. Raul and Santana are almost old enough to stand guard alone, but with that age often comes the need to strike out on one's own. Ivar had done much the same when he was not much older than the twins. "Or I could leave the three of you, if you'd prefer that."
Indeed, she wants to stand on her own in short order. For a moment, Ivar can picture the mare that he'd met alongside the river, though he blinks and she is the battered thing in front of him once more. The piebald stallion can see Raul and Santana from the corner of his eye, hovering just far enough away from their mother to satisfy her request.
Sabra compliments his child rearing and he takes another, longer look at them. He'd not done much, truly. Ensuring the island was safe from outsiders, that the water along the shore was free of hungry mouths. Life is not difficult on a tropic isle. Food and water are plentiful, and the days are always long and warm. For the most part, he leaves them to their own devices, knowing from the tracks they leave across the small western island where and how they have been.
"If you'll take them off my hands, I'll consider us even." He replies, having stepped away to give Sabra the space she wanted. He is still close - close enough to catch her - but not so near as to infringe on her movement. A half step behind, he walks with her to the shallow pool. Just large enough to hold a horse lying on their side, the spring is fed from a freshwater aquifer somewhere beneath the ocean's floor. The output of the spring is rather quick, and Ivar isn't worried that Sabra might contaminate their water. For a moment he follows the line of the running water back to the shore with his golden eyes, but soon turns them back to Sabra.
"Would you like to be alone?" The question is asked in a tone more somber than the jesting of moments before. There's no pity in it - Ivar's ability to empathize has always been minimal at best - but there is something almost like concern in his metallic gaze. "The boys and I can stand guard," he offers, uncertain how she might react. There is no telling what she has been subjected to, but Ivar knows the value of having someone to watch when he is unable. Raul and Santana are almost old enough to stand guard alone, but with that age often comes the need to strike out on one's own. Ivar had done much the same when he was not much older than the twins. "Or I could leave the three of you, if you'd prefer that."