i know i'm not the center of the universe
-but you keep spinning 'round me just the same
Ivar is unable to shake thoughts of Ischia from his mind.
Ever since his meeting with Kylin, when the tobiano filly had described a land entirely surrounded by water, he has dreamed of it. The black colt had returned to the Lake a few weeks ago, but there was no sign of Kylin. There were horses, but they did not look like relatives of the lavender girl, so he had left quietly – disappointed.
He’s channeled that into determination though, and this morning he pulls himself onto the sandy shore of Ischia. It is high tide and the sandbars are deeply submerged, but Ivar had made his way from the mainland to the island with little difficulty. Though he’s barely six months old, the tobiano colt is at home in the water as much as he is on land. The buoyancy of the salt water had been difficult to contend with at first, but he is a quick learner.
After shaking his long white legs one at a time, the young colt shakes his entire body, which makes the long hairs of his white tail stick to his black rump and his dark mane to stand at odd angles along his neck. He’s oblivious to this, of course, as he’s busy taking in the tropical paradise he’s just arrived in. Mother had said that it was warm here year round because of the same underground vents that heat Tephra, and Ivar believes her. He is still at the age when adults are endless fonts of unimpeachable knowledge, but is inching closer and closer to teenage rebellion.
Narrowing his brown eyes he tries to see through the shadowy foliage that covers the island, but he sees only darkness.
“Kylin?” He calls hesitantly, craning his neck to see. “Hey Kylin, are you here?”
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