"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
06-20-2018, 12:22 PM (This post was last modified: 07-01-2018, 10:37 AM by Heda.)
It had been several years since she had touched Beqanna’s grounds with her own feet, she had remained aloft these years. Soaring over her past husband’s watery domain in hopes that she may see him. Even during his betrayal she yearned for his touch even though her heart was mangled and drowned, and left at the bottom of the sea when he left her. Yet she had never been one of his victims he seduced, and broke at his own hands. She wondered why he didn’t kill her, why he didn’t drown her, why he was so gentle despite ex-husband’s true nature.
Her thoughts haunt her as she flies aimlessly, not conscious of her whereabouts until she suddenly finds herself returned to the land she had run away from.
She lands with grace her buttermilk cranium bowed, her navy lockes flowing down her crest. Her gorgeous navy tinged feathery plumages folded gently at her golden sides.
She finds herself in the meadow, in autumn her least favorite seasons as of late. Due to rhe fact that her hormones where raging. Driving her mind crazy for the kelpie. It’s awful really how her first love haunts her to this day despite her shattered heart.
The navy toned women confines herself in her own solitude, away from the others she can’t find herself to socialize. It’s been so long since she’d spoken to anyone, her travels over the seas were quiet, seabirds often mistakened her as one of their flock, their hails for food were the only voices she heard. But now she’s back with her own kind. Feeling alone as ever, as her hormones raged within her body.
@[Ivar] I thought it would be interesting for them to see eachother. If your not up for it let me know
06-20-2018, 12:58 PM (This post was last modified: 06-22-2018, 12:32 AM by Ivar.)
I V A R promising everything i do not mean
It’s been more than two years, but Ivar would know her anywhere.
She is graceful even without an audience, as elegant and poised as if a crown still rested between her navy ears. Ivar watches her from the water where he is half-submerged, his chin resting on the bank and his flicking tail keeping him steady despite the current. The air is chilly but the water remains temperate, warmed by the same flowing magma that keeps Ischia an ever-tropical realm. With the autumn he has left his island more frequently, unable (and unwilling) to resist the bounty that Beqanna offers to a kelpie. Today had been meant to be such a day – he would sample what the meadow had to offer before returning to the sea and his lavender companion.
Instead, Fate has knotted his plans, and instead of a pretty stranger in his path it places instead someone who has almost become one.
The scaled stallion climbs from the river, and the water runs between the scales of his sapphire pied coat in a thousand rivulets. He has changed since their last meeting (his smoky dun coat is now brilliantly blue and edged with molten gold), but there is no mistaking the handsome stallion.
“Heda,” He says, tasting the word for the first time in years, and finding that it still sounds right. Though he had left Loess for the sea he had returned to Beqanna empty handed. The woman he had forsaken Heda for is gone – gone with their children – but he does not expect her to know this. Yet he is cautious still, keeping the distance between them even though he draws closer to speak.
She does not smell of their hilly kingdom, instead her buttermilk coat is touched with salt and sea-spray from her travels across the ocean. It intrigues the kelpie, just as her sleek figure and pretty face have always intrigued the stallion, and he takes a step closer despite himself.
“What brings you to the Meadow?” It sounds like such an innocent question, Ivar thinks; there is no indication of the weight it bears or the time that has passed since their last encounter.
I know my lies could not make you believe in my dark times, baby this is all I could be . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Her navy flecked lobes, flicker to the familiar vocals that hailed her name to her left, where the sea lapped at the vegetation riddled shores of the Meadow. Her gaze wanders, watching the shoreline for a brief moment until they lock on the Kelpie. There’s no mistakening her ex despite his change in appearance, her pearl and ebony scales had become a deep blue and gold encrusting his skin. He was handsome as hell, his body rippeling with muscle, the gold of his scales glinted in the waning sunlight as he walked, so smoothly with confidence. Heda had always admired the strength and confidence he held when he walked, she had always lacked such qualities. Being her soft, fleshy self.
“Ivar.” She breathes, the very mention of his name sending chills down every bone in her body, her heart fluttering furiously, as her hormones raged within her body, twisting her mind to think of several obscene thoughts. She stares blankly at him, she doesn’t know whether she should be happy or angry to see him, her instincts and hormones says one, while her mind and grudge says another. She’s lost for words, and as per usual he guides the conversation. Such confidence. Why was this so easy for him?
His question is harmless, but what does she say? That she was searching for him, while she traveled, yearning for his touch, for his breathe against the slope of her neck. No she couldn’t, he would think of her as crazy or even worse pathetic. So she fibs. “I’ve been traveling for some time now... And I’ve grown tired of flying.” She answers with a sweet tone. But her answer is too quick, her mind fires and realizes she isn’t exhausted. After the years she had spent in his bed, he would know what exhaustion looked like on her face.
Her navy tail stirs at her hocks nervously, as her heart pounded in her ears. She was never a good liar in her childhood nor would she be now. Her hazel eyes studying his face, in hopes that she had fooled him.
OOC: Lame I know. I just wanted to get a post up for you before the weekend.
His dark ears flick forward in interest; her rapidly pattering heart as irresistible to the scaled creature as a siren song. Heda doesn’t seem to react to his arrival, but when she says his name it is not with the venom he had expected. It emboldens Ivar, who takes one step closer, and then another.
For a while she doesn’t answer and he inches ever nearer, feeling the soft give of the soil beneath him. The leaves at their feet are crisp with frost, and the smell of a world preparing for rest surrounds them. Ivar has always enjoyed the autumn as a season (the activities that take place during it are only a bonus). He’d been raised in Sylva, after all. This fire colored world feels almost as much like home as the sea does.
Almost.
Heda answers, her voice as sweet as he remembers. She’d been traveling, she says, which explains the smell of the salt that permeates her skin and the feathers that are just barely out of reach. Ivar doesn’t reach for them (he recognizes a safe distance when he sees one), but he does lean to one side. The very picture of relaxation, the kelpie is, as though casual conversations with his ex-wife are an everyday occurrence for him. She’s tired of flying she adds, and Ivar recognizes the lie as soon as it leaves her lips.
“You’re never tired of flying,” he replies without a moment’s hesitation. He can read her as easily as she’d feared; Ivar has seen a weary Heda (has made a weary Heda) and this is not one. There’s no accusation in his low-toned words. He doesn’t mind the lie; it’s not as if he deserves the truth, after all.
The stallion knows that now is not the time for teasing, but the kelpie cannot resist.
“You came back to see me, didn’t you?” Another step closer, and he’s near enough to touch if she were to reach out. He’s also far enough away to dodge a well-placed nip, but Ivar has weighed the consequences and decided this is a risk worth taking. He has the autumn on his side after all, the advantage of hormones at the fact that the worst thing he’d done was abandon her. He’s here now though, and in the fading evening light he has eyes only for her.
I know my lies could not make you believe in my dark times, baby this is all I could be . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
06-27-2018, 08:33 PM (This post was last modified: 06-27-2018, 08:35 PM by Heda.)
Damn it. Why was he so relaxed? So comfortable in his own skin. While Heda felt like she was drowning in the Kelpie's presence, her lungs gasping for air. Her breath shuttering, as he speaks, but he on the other hand is cool, and content. His leaning sideways posture, the essence of relaxation, as he catches her rather pathetic deception.
Her hazel gaze lowers, her wings clamp tightly against her golden sides, as her tail stirred at her hocks anxiously before he speaks again. Her crown lifting, it was like he read her mind. Yes she come here to him, although it may of been unintentional as she was lost in her own thoughts when she landed. He steps closer, her heart thundering in her ears, she hadn't been this close to him in years. What does she do? Her muscles grow tense, as she steps from side to side with uncertainty of what to do, how to answer. The silence is killing her, and she breaks to his teasing. "Yes.." She whispers under her breath, her heart fluttering ferociously in her chest. "Yes Ivar.." She repeats, stepping forwards. Her body colliding with his, pressing herself against him.
She missed this, the warmth of his molten scales, and salt kissed skin against her own flesh. Her lips pressing love induced kisses against his neck, her wing stretching outwards, and over the slope of his blue scaled back. Her other navy tinged feathery plumage, falling to the ground, limp. Her eyes lost in his wickedly handsome gaze.
"I want you." She whispers in a tease. The feeling is odd on hr mind, she was never the one to tease, but this distance, her deprivation of sex, and contact had brought everything out. Her emotions driving her own actions, her hormones influencing her emotions. It was a chain reaction, and she was wondering how he would react to such teasing from her lips.
For a moment the kelpie fears he has misjudged her. The buckskin looks away, her head lowered. Her tails flicks anxiously at her navy blue legs, but then she is looking up. She is meeting his gaze, and Ivar is very much enjoying what he finds there.
The picture brought to mind is one the kelpie finds appealing. Kylin with a colt at her heels and Heda due with one of her own any day, Ivar is their protector and guardian. He can almost taste it on his tongue and then: he does. Heda is pressing herself against him, fervant and demanding. It is an image from his dreams brought to life (and wouldn't the dreamspinner have a wonderful reaction to this particular dream!) and Ivar never considers turning her down.
Her navy blue wing is a shield from the frigid autumn winds, and the tropical-dwelling Ivar is rather grateful. Still, his soft caresses bring their own sort of warmth as he makes his way from her withers to her poll. The emotion - love - that she presses into him with each mirrored kiss sinks down deep. The kelpie does not have this feeling. There is no evolutionary advantage to feeling love, and so the equus kelpus have evolved without it. Yet the receptors for it remain, it seems, minute neurons in his head that Heda can so easily influence.
Ivar sighs into her warm neck, the pale length of his forehead and his pressed against her. "I missed you," he tells her, opening his mouth to say more. Before he can though, Heda speaks again, looking up at him from familiar eyes. I want you, she says, and Ivar has to bite down on Heda's warm shoulder to hold back the profanity. If he does, is not enough to harm her, but rather just enough to mark her, the way he does those he means to keep.
"Of course you do," he tells her when he has control again, and his touch to her neck has become gentler. There is a brightness in his molten eyes; Ivar is rather delighted by this unanticipated encounter and Heda's forwardness. The kelpie has no intention of allowing the blue and gold mare to renege on her request, and as he settles atop her it is with a familiarity that is almost bittersweet. He had missed her, missed her and that inexplicably intoxicating emotion that she wields so easily.
Ivar toys with her, gentle and then aggressive, teasing and then playful. The piebald kelpie wants her to be quite aware of what she has been missing, and he does not hold back. In return for her love-soaked kisses he gives silent commands to feel pleasure and satisfaction, to give herself to him. That last one doesn't end, even as he slips off and rounds her with a gentle press of his muzzle to her navy wings.
"You'll stay with me," he says aloud, simultaneously pressing the command into her mind as well. "And we'll try that again in the water." The coincidence of his children's conception no longer evades him; he'll take Heda again in the sea to be certain of a child, and she'll be happy and content with Kylin and the foals they will bear him, passing the days in their tropical paradise. Yes, Ivar thinks as he massages the base of Heda's withers with a satisfied smile. That will do quite nicely
07-01-2018, 10:37 AM (This post was last modified: 07-01-2018, 10:40 AM by Heda.)
She smiles to his response, leaning closer into him, as he grasps her flesh between his teeth, she flinches for a moment as the pain festers, then releases, revealing a minute bite on her shoulder. But she could care less at this point she's engulfed by him (in her earlier life she would not allow such, biting), and his seductive fuckery.
The minute he slips atop her, she relinquishes herself to him, her wings collapsing to the ground, grown limp by her satisfaction, as he toys with her body. Twisting, and manipulating it to his own liking. Her neck craned, as she bit down on her tongue, as to not make a scene, as they were not in the confines of privacy at all. She releases cries of love despite her effort to remain quiet, and her lover's passionate intentions. She bends to his will, as he slips off her, still not satisfied, wanting more, even frustrated by his sudden stop.
He speaks to her, her body demanding more as he commands her to stay with him, the thought soaking into her mind, like that of a sponge. Yet she's more focused on something else.. Her feathers ruffle at her side, as he speaks again, and she abides in her weakness. "Yes." She responds in a low whisper desperate for his love. She strides in-toe with him, pressing against him, gently playing at his two-toned mane, pressing love embellished kisses along his neck, and on his cheek.
Until the two reach the water, the pebbles beneath her hooves slipping, as she steps into the cool substance, deeper and deeper until the water went half up to her withers. Her navy locks, lingered on the surface as her wings were soiled by the water, relinquishing her of flight for the time being. Her body clinging to him, as she murmurs in a temptress tone, "Ivar I want you." Again awaiting for him to bury his teeth into her once again.
Guiding her is second nature to the kelpie - he knows Heda better than he knows anyone. She was the first to survive him, after all, and she is possessed of a gift that pierces Ivar's scaled hide as easily as a harpoon. Their couplings have never been anything less than satisfactory, and as Ivar guides her north (through the tall grasses of the Feild, along the edges of the Forest), he can feel the hunger rising again.
She is pressed against him the whole way, simultaneously gentle and enthusiastic. The constant infusion of emotions has him nearly as giddy, and the nips he places at the back of her legs when she moves too slowly are equally infused. He continues to press want and need and mine as they reach the shoreline, and so he is unsurprised when she turns to him in the water.
There is an easy grin on his pale features, as he watches the mare ahead of him wade deeper into the waves. The setting sun illuminates her buckskin coat, and Ivar presses his mouth against her damp sides hungrily. Heda repeats her earlier demand, and Ivar doesn't hesitate to do as asked.
This time he is most attentive to her needs, matching himself to the tides of her body. He means to eke out those cries she had kept quiet in the meadow; there is no one to hear her call out here. Ivar's teeth rake across her bared neck, but it is not until he feels her shaking beneath him that he pierces her skin.
"You're mine," he says into the curl of her ear as he slides off her golden back. "I made a mistake letting you go before. I won't do it again." It does not occur to him that Heda might have an opinion on this decision. If she did - and it differed from his - it wouldn't matter. She is his now, and he intends to keep her. "You'll want to stay with me in Ischia," Ivar adds, pressing a feather-light touch to the place he had bitten moments earlier, and with it is the mental demand. "You'll be happy there."
"Ivar!" She laughs, as he nips at her legs forcing the golden girl to trot forwards, deeper into the water, her heart fluttering in her chest. She waist for him, for his tenderly rough touch to graces her body, and she relinquishes herself again as he rises atop of her. It doesn't take long before she's trembling, her body engulfed by the pleasure of her partner, as she released high pitched cries, leading to her pleasurable climax. She pants beneath him, wings straining in the water, as every muscle in her body stiffened. The Kelpie's teeth raking down her neck, as he grasps her flesh between his teeth once more, breaking the skin, her blood creating red toned ripples in the water.
His words, engrained in her mind as he slips off her. She's exhausted so she leans against him, as if he were he lifeline, clinging to him, her wing slung over his back, as if to anchor herself to him. He speaks of letting her go, and that she'll be happy with him in Ischia, but despite her exhaustion and his rather demanding tone, implanting the thought in her mind as if it were hers, she can't help but ask, not in retaliation, but simply in curiosity. "I want to.... But is your Kelpie mate still with you..." She hums, as he gently presses his muzzle against her wound, her flutters as she flinches for a moment, her wing clamping on his body. "I can't if she's still with you Ivar..." She adds, her tone soft and sweet despite the rather bitter subject.
He spread wings adds a further layer of darkness to the shadows cast by their bodies in the shallow sea. Ivar noses against the navy feathers, finding they are as soft as he remembers, downy and silken here at the joint of her shoulder. His curious lips rove across her withers then, toy with the strands of her navy mane until the lay more smoothly along her neck. The warmth of physical satisfaction gives a languidity to his actions that has been rather absent of late. Even her questions, unnecessary chatter in their afterglow, do not stir even a flicker of irritation.
“Yes, you can.” He replies as he presses his muzzle to the still fresh spill of red down her golden neck. She flinches away at the contact and Ivar grins, delighting in the way she holds him so firmly with her arching wing. The kelpie can’t recall telling Heda much of Isobell, but he imagines two monarchs running off with each other would not have been especially minor gossip. There is not use telling Heda that what he found in Isobell he will never find in her, and that the same is also true in the other direction.
“You’ll be happy,” he adds, rather than tell her: No, Isobell has vanished, pregnant with his twins and taking their son along with her. “Ischia is beautiful, and there are other mares there to keep you company.” He’s not ever told Kylin much about Heda, but he imagines the two of them might get along well. There’s the small issue of possession they each feel over the piebald kelpie, but Ivar suspects that if they’re distracted by raising his children they won’t be able to get up to too much trouble.
“Don’t I make you happy?” he asks, pressing into her the hypnotic command to relieve her most recent climax in exquisite detail as he nibbles gently at the curve of her smooth jaw.
I know my lies could not make you believe in my dark times, baby this is all I could be . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
![[Image: dc9b5pd-da224f9b-4062-4ac8-924f-4dd26147...1Y8jmwEofM]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/07886fb6-93e3-433a-98d3-b27bd42023e6/dc9b5pd-da224f9b-4062-4ac8-924f-4dd26147d99a.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzA3ODg2ZmI2LTkzZTMtNDMzYS05OGQzLWIyN2JkNDIwMjNlNlwvZGM5YjVwZC1kYTIyNGY5Yi00MDYyLTRhYzgtOTI0Zi00ZGQyNjE0N2Q5OWEuZ2lmIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.geTcHHU6VYVUl2A4eZOJJP7O2w_nw1yix1Y8jmwEofM)
