09-25-2018, 09:19 PM
He sees mahogany brown skin and smells the granite of Nerine, but the winged mare that watches him with fiery eyes is not the one he had expected to see. The disappointment is so brief as to be nonexistent, and Ivar knows the overcast evening sky will hide what remains. It takes a while for him to recognize the bay mare as the filly he'd nearly lured away years past. This while includes ample time to trace the curve of her brown neck and the way the scales of her dark wings fit neatly once beside the other, and finally the smattering of white spots across her back that finally snap with recognition.
"Wrena." He says, her name coming to him as easily as the dashing smile to his scaled muzzle. "It's been a while." Years, he thinks, and they have been good to her. Their last encounter had not ended the way that he had wanted it to, but it seems that the hurricane has brought him not only brilliantly stormy waters, but a gift from the past as well.
"Is your sister with you here too?" He asks, as though only a few days have passed since their last meeting. There is a bit of laughter at the edges of his dark eyes, and the kelpie's tone is alluring as he continues: "Or are you finally going to be able to come away with me?"
The kelpie remains perfectly - unnaturally - still; this is not hunting season but prey is almost irresistibly near. She is just out of reach, and Ivar knows better than to make the first move. Other tactics then.
"Are you still in Nerine?" Asks the blue and gold stallion, his blazed face tilted curiously. There is nothing in his demeanor that suggests he is biding his time, that he is going through the motions of socialization in the hopes of future reward. It is a habit he is well accustomed to, though perhaps if he takes a step closer to the water, Wrena will follow him. Perhaps she'll follow him all the way to Ischia, where he can keep her safe.
"Wrena." He says, her name coming to him as easily as the dashing smile to his scaled muzzle. "It's been a while." Years, he thinks, and they have been good to her. Their last encounter had not ended the way that he had wanted it to, but it seems that the hurricane has brought him not only brilliantly stormy waters, but a gift from the past as well.
"Is your sister with you here too?" He asks, as though only a few days have passed since their last meeting. There is a bit of laughter at the edges of his dark eyes, and the kelpie's tone is alluring as he continues: "Or are you finally going to be able to come away with me?"
The kelpie remains perfectly - unnaturally - still; this is not hunting season but prey is almost irresistibly near. She is just out of reach, and Ivar knows better than to make the first move. Other tactics then.
"Are you still in Nerine?" Asks the blue and gold stallion, his blazed face tilted curiously. There is nothing in his demeanor that suggests he is biding his time, that he is going through the motions of socialization in the hopes of future reward. It is a habit he is well accustomed to, though perhaps if he takes a step closer to the water, Wrena will follow him. Perhaps she'll follow him all the way to Ischia, where he can keep her safe.