11-27-2018, 08:08 AM
Though the rate of her pulse accelerates at his nearness (pleasing Ivar, who has never minded the cause so long as he can enjoy the effect) she doesn’t jerk away, doesn’t give the kelpie any reason to crush her soft throat between his teeth as he pulls her beneath the water. How disappointing.
She smiles and for just a moment he is reminded of Kaliope’s delight at discovering the coral reefs to the west of Ischia. This might have softened another creature, but Ivar is thinking how his daughter might enjoy having someone else her age on the island. If she doesn’t, perhaps the easily trusting blue girl might make good sport for either of his sons.
‘That wasn’t so bad’, she exclaims, and the piebald stallion’s response is just to smile in bemusement, as though of course it wasn’t bad: did she think him a monster?
When she moves toward the water he is careful to keep back, suppressing the urge to crowd her into the water, to drive her deeper and pull her under. Instead he stay on the bank, watching her for any indication of change. He had not pressed Deiti for the details of Leilan’s transformation, but the turning of Isobell had a few more components than a simple nip on the neck and standing knee-deep in water. Fortunately for Chryseis, Ivar is uninterested in turning her in quite the same way. At least this year. Perhaps next.
“I suppose not everyone is cut out to be a kelpie.” He replies, a casual shrug rolling his pale shoulders. “It’s a pity,” he adds after a moment of contemplation, “I think you’d have enjoyed swimming in Ischia. My children might have been able to show you the coral caves.”
You will come to Ischia, is the hypnotic command that comes as he wades into the water and his tail flicks against her for just the briefest moment. There’s no timing to his command – he has learned that demands least likely to be recognized by the mind of prey as ‘foreign’ are those that are vague. To bring her back now might require a fuss, and even in the still riverlands there is always the chance of eyes in the shadows.
@[Chryseis]
She smiles and for just a moment he is reminded of Kaliope’s delight at discovering the coral reefs to the west of Ischia. This might have softened another creature, but Ivar is thinking how his daughter might enjoy having someone else her age on the island. If she doesn’t, perhaps the easily trusting blue girl might make good sport for either of his sons.
‘That wasn’t so bad’, she exclaims, and the piebald stallion’s response is just to smile in bemusement, as though of course it wasn’t bad: did she think him a monster?
When she moves toward the water he is careful to keep back, suppressing the urge to crowd her into the water, to drive her deeper and pull her under. Instead he stay on the bank, watching her for any indication of change. He had not pressed Deiti for the details of Leilan’s transformation, but the turning of Isobell had a few more components than a simple nip on the neck and standing knee-deep in water. Fortunately for Chryseis, Ivar is uninterested in turning her in quite the same way. At least this year. Perhaps next.
“I suppose not everyone is cut out to be a kelpie.” He replies, a casual shrug rolling his pale shoulders. “It’s a pity,” he adds after a moment of contemplation, “I think you’d have enjoyed swimming in Ischia. My children might have been able to show you the coral caves.”
You will come to Ischia, is the hypnotic command that comes as he wades into the water and his tail flicks against her for just the briefest moment. There’s no timing to his command – he has learned that demands least likely to be recognized by the mind of prey as ‘foreign’ are those that are vague. To bring her back now might require a fuss, and even in the still riverlands there is always the chance of eyes in the shadows.
@[Chryseis]