"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
html code by Toli, design idea based on "Dovev" by Laura
Like a flower waiting to bloom.
With a soft sigh – seems all she can do is sighing lately – she leans into the touch. It does comfort her. Not just the movement of his muzzle across her skin, but also knowing that she isn’t alone. And she could only hope he would always be there to catch her if she threatened to fall. Kylin focusses on the light touch of his pale muzzle on her shoulder. From the moment he touches her skin, to the gentle brush down her shoulder and the loss of contact, all to have it happen over and over again.
She hums softly in agreement, nodding. She knows she’s not the stranger, but she cannot help but to feel that way. ”Ischia was my family’s home.. But they have all left.” So what was Kylin still doing at the island? She had nobody left there anymore. Yet she was still reluctant to leave. ”What if they try though? It’s not like I stand a chance against them.”
And she didn’t. She wasn’t extremely small or fragile in build, but she was young and unexperienced. Too kind of heart too, the idea of hurting another had never been on her mind. She would flee, instead of fight.
But perhaps she didn’t have to fight the battle herself. His words make her smile, though it’s only a small smile, genuine nonetheless. ”You would come to my rescue?” she asks half teasingly. It makes her remember her first time trying to swim, when he had had her back too. ”Make sure to keep that promise, then I promise to let you know if they do.”
”Why did you ask though? You said she came to visit Loess? What for?” Had she come here too, trying to see what land would fit her better?
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
Ivar curls against her. His eyes are closed as he holds her tightly, his nose half-buried beneath the salt crisp curls of her pastel mane. Kylin is as much a part of Ivar as his own hooves are; he has never been able to trust his instincts around her. Some facets of the kelpie do not meld with those of a horse, and he is left stranded in situations such as these.
It would be easiest to make her stay here. She would be safe, after all, well cared for. She’d have the company of other women and things to occupy her time. Perhaps next spring she might be passing the time by caring for their child. It’s an idyllstic image for Ivar, and he is always a hairsbreadth away from pressing the desire into her mind.
But he never does.
She had asked him not to, and he has always kept his promises.
Even when he does not want to. Even when it would be better if he did not. Even if it means he does nothing more than bind himself deeper with every promise he makes.
“Anything for you,” he says truthfully into the hollow of her throat, pulling away with a twist in his smile and fondness in his brown eyes.
Kylin returns to the conversation to Circinae then, and the reminder is unwelcome. Ivar disentangles himself from the intimate embrace with Kylin. The cool winter air feels even more bitter in the once-warm spaces their bodies had touched. The kangaroos have begun to duck their heads from the wind, and a few seem to be heading for shelter in the brush. Taking their lead, Ivar encourages Kylin onward with a bump of his muzzle, intent on leading her to shelter in a nearby cave.
As they walk, he answers. “I’m not sure yet. But I think I might end up coming to Ischia sooner than I intended.”
Having his adventures planned for him doesn’t feel very much like having an adventure at all, he is finding. The scaled piebald has never been a fan of detailed itineraries.
“Or you could always just stay here in Loess,” he adds, glancing up to meet her gaze directly. He’s skipped around it enough, he knows. “Stay with me. We’ll go visit Ischia whenever you want.”
kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis minimal grullo tobiano king of loess
html code by Toli, design idea based on "Dovev" by Laura
Like a flower waiting to bloom.
It is only natural to her to press herself closer against him and into the embrace. Too long she’d gone without such close contact and as a girl who was used to be conjoined at the hip to her twin brother, Kylin had been desperate for it. And he offer exactly that what she needs.
His words did more to her than she would like to admit. Like a dozen of butterflies were contained in her stomach, and she feels all gooey too. He makes her feel like she matters, like she’s not nothing. And Kylin likes the feeling. Too soon he pulls away.
A little surprised the bends her white and lavender toned neck so she’s able to look at him with one eye. The unspoken question laid in her hazel gaze, but she doesn’t want to further separate them by asking it out loud. The cold breeze makes her shiver, only for a short moment, as her body mourns the loss of contact with his. Her answer – to her unspoken question – is delivered equally as silent. The light bump has her lips curling up and she doesn’t need more of invitation, or guidance, to follow him to shelter.
”You make it almost sound like visiting Ischia is a bad thing?” she asks, not able to ignore that what she interprets as slight bitterness in his tone. It only makes Kylin more curious. She had thoroughly enjoyed Ivar’s first visit to the tropical island, and she’d been sure he had too. Or hadn’t he?
Her step falls when she finally realise what he had said. Perhaps he hadn’t liked it after all. As Kylin looks at the scaled stallion there is both surprise and confusion in her gaze. Never before had they talked about living together, where did it come from? ”Stay in Loess..?” Stay with Ivar? Her eyes search his face for more clues as she softly repeats his words. Out loud and in mind.
She finds nothing, though he’s looking at her directly. Of course did she like his presence and she liked all he did and said to her even more, but trading Ischia for Loess? It was like picking water over land, and Kylin – like Ivar – preferred the water. But in Loess she wouldn’t be alone, Ivar had never left her, where in Ischia only strangers lived. Yet it had never occurred to her to leave Ischia. To leave home.
”Why do you ask so suddenly?” she asks, not because she’s objecting, but simply in an attempt to try to understand Ivar better. If he’d only suggested to move with her to Ischia she would’ve jumped right on it, but moving to Loess? ”There’s almost no water here..”
She would gain someone at her side, but lose her beloved water home.
Or she could stay at home, but perhaps lose the one friend still standing at her side.
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
It seems that fate is determined to obstruct his instinctual desire.
First there had been the flooding of the Taiga, and now: “Heda made me king,” he tells her, his dark eyes on hers. He has not told anyone this – well, not anyone that was not at the kingdom meeting – and it feels rather strange. Ivar had never wanted such recognition. He was content to linger in his springs, to hunt outside the kingdom and return here to rest. Heda, with her trusting heart and sweet naivety has been his since he first arrived in the hilly land. With his appointment as General, Ivar had been king in all but name alone, and now he has the title as well.
He is not sure how Kylin will react to this, as the two of them have – somehow – never discussed such things. They had always been children, titleless and carefree, and then adults that were much the same.
Fate’s intercession is becoming a bit less than welcome.
“I have to stay here,” Ivar says, knowing that that much was probably already clear.
“For now, at least. I can visit Ischia though.” On diplomatic ventures at least, the scaled creature does not add. He has so little free time any more.
kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis minimal grullo tobiano king of loess
html code by Toli, design idea based on "Dovev" by Laura
Like a flower waiting to bloom.
King. Ivar had been crowned king.
She needs a moment to let that sink in and it has her speechless. No wonder he was bound to Loess. It wasn’t someone or something that kept him in place specifically, but a title and the commitment to the land. That wasn’t something Kylin would ever had expected. Yes, they had talked about lands and adventures before, but never diplomacy. And honestly, in her mind Ivar had always been too free to bound himself to a place like this.
The silence stretches and her thoughts wander off, wondering why Ivar would want her to leave Ischia and move to Loess. Why did Ivar want her to stay with him? Those had been his words, his way of formulating. Kylin is pretty sure he had meant them, but she cannot figure out his reasoning on her own. ”Why? Why do you want me to stay?”
Maybe she would. It was not like there was much left for her in Ischia, other than the land itself. The lavender and white girl knows she can find purpose there, Circinae had even asked for her help already. But at this moment, she had yet to find peace with the arrival of the strangers.
Ivar, and Loess, would be just as a gamble though. A new land, new people and she’d have to say goodbye to her beloved sea. Yes she knew Ivar, meaning she was familiar with Loess’ king, but she didn’t know anybody else that roamed these lands.
His words have her nodding, and smile a little. It’s a forced one though, and it doesn’t show in her eyes. ”Is it okay if I give you an answer when you come to visit Ischia? I.. need time..” she honestly admits. Never before Kylin had even thought of leaving Ischia, his suggestion had come out of the blue and put thoughts in her head that she had never had before.
Only time could tell what her decision would be. Ischia and the sea, or Loess and Ivar.
There is an apology in her eyes as she finds his again, but this time with a meant smile. She steps forward again, bumping her muzzle into his shoulder. ”The wind is getting chilly, does Loess have any shelter?”
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
The announcement had surprised her, and Ivar is unperturbed by the silence that follows. It is not something he had ever expected, but he has at least had a few days to come to terms with it. It is entirely new to Kylin, and especially accompanied by his request, he understands that it might take her some time.
Her question – the why, the reasoning behind what he had asked – is also expected, but is not as welcome.
Ivar has already done his best to communicate his why: he is starting a herd, he feels responsible for her, he wants her as a stallion. What other reason could she want?
Love, probably. Heda loves him; that is what keeps her here. Were Ivar not himself, he could give Kylin that, could show her that he is a more than worthy replacement of her brother. Wherever Kharon was, it was not here. He was not protecting his sister, he was not giving her the affection that she deserves. Ivar could give her that, even if he cannot offer the emotion along with it. He can protect her though, and is that not better? What good is love when safety is in question?
“I’d like to see you more often,” he replies, a truthful reply even if not the one that he suspects she might want. It’s not the entirety of the truth, but it is all he feel comfortable giving her. The rest will scare her away, or not be what she wants.
Damn mares and their desire for monogamy.
The forced smile is not encouraging. Ivar watches it, meets the hazel eyes that do not match the smile on her face, and he nods.
“Of course, take your time.”
She is shivering, and when she asks about shelter he nods quickly. “Plenty of it,” he tells her, and turns to lead her to the nearest cave. They are scattered through the hilly landscape, most of them shallow and formed by the plethora of springs.
kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis minimal grullo tobiano king of loess
