06-27-2017, 08:59 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take The cascade of words pouring from her mouth seem to have no end in sight. Ivar takes them in the same way he does the water, sifting through the cacophony of currents to find those that are most important – most interesting. He doesn’t find it unpleasant – if anything her loquaciousness is a refreshing novelty to a young stallion raised by parents who seem to hoard every syllable. “Yes, Radiant,” he repeats with a sense of familiarity when the roan shares her name. “Of course.” There is enough of a spark in his dark eyes for his response to be taken as flirtatiousness, but he takes no action more forward than the words themselves. He’s an astute creature, and the flutter of a nervous heartbeat is as easy for him to identify as the dawn call of a loon. He is missing that now, he remembers suddenly. The soft pink dawn is creeping over the meadow much the same way it would have risen over his foggy little pond, but the birdcalls here are a little foreign. Some he recognizes, but there is a noticeable absence of the muttering of waking waterfowl and the sounds of early morning water creatures. She seems to catch his mind wandering, and Ivar returns his gold-flecked gaze to her with a smile. He’s an answer ready when she provides her own response to the question she’s just asked him. Yes, that’s what he had thought. Tephra’s volcano leaves a distinctive tang in one’s nose; it has not been so long since he had witnessed the smoking mountain himself. “I don’t.” The pied stallion says, tilting his head to look at the thin branches of the trees overhead. “Though I don’t blame you for not leaving Tephra. It seemed to be a nice place, if you’re a fan of magma.” There’s just enough of a laugh in his tenor voice to suggest that he might not be one of those fans. He prefers his water cold and deep; burning rock has a way of ruining that. |