[private] wont be coming to church on sunday; ivar

[Kensa]

for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle

The Primarch knows her way to Ischia, she need only touch the crystal clear  edge of her own clear cold lake and fall away into the water. Whatever magic propels her molecules through the river and streams and ground water, and then salty blue sea, does so with incredible speed. A wave carries her in and she reforms as it rolls back down toward the shore. Kensa climbs the white sand incline, her pale hooves leaving prints that are wiped away a moment after she passes by each foam edged lap of the water. 

She shakes herself, and the salt water leaves flaxen curls around her freckled features. Ivar will know she is here, just as he did before. This time she comes alone, unencumbered by darling Clayton. That one, handsome, boyish, innocent, has finally fallen to her... not that she is so unfeeling to put it that way. He is dear, and she adores him even if he does not understand her.

Kensa had planned to visit this shore and Ivar again, though life had interrupted for a time. Now she has children, a new co-leader, a new lover, and a new ex-husband. Autumn is bringing a crispness to Hyaline's air that she is not ready to greet and the leaves are turning too fast to be pretty. So, she touched the lake and thought of this warm beach, arriving in a way that feels almost accidental.

kensa

for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.

@[Ivar]