03-17-2018, 04:22 PM
Ice no longer adds an extra crunch to the piebald's morning run down the beach. Ivar’s breath still streams behind him, by by the time the sun has full climbed the eastern horizon, the scaled stallion is comfortably warm. He slows, feeling his hooves dig into the familiar yellow sand.
Their time at sea has passed so quickly.
Every day, Lothbrok is a little taller, a little more ready to stand on his own. It seems strange to Ivar - hadn’t he been a newborn just yesterday? - but he is filled with pride each time he races through the water beside his son.
Spring has not brought them a second child (though not for lack of trying). Perhaps it is better this way, Ivar thinks as he crosses the threshold of their seaside cave. This way Lothbrok gets a bit more attention, and Ivar need not worry about feeding both a yearling and a newborn.
He finds @[Isobell] still sleeping, and slides his pale muzzle down the slope of her back until he reaches her withers. He nibbles gently at her mane, tugging softly to wake her.
Their time at sea has passed so quickly.
Every day, Lothbrok is a little taller, a little more ready to stand on his own. It seems strange to Ivar - hadn’t he been a newborn just yesterday? - but he is filled with pride each time he races through the water beside his son.
Spring has not brought them a second child (though not for lack of trying). Perhaps it is better this way, Ivar thinks as he crosses the threshold of their seaside cave. This way Lothbrok gets a bit more attention, and Ivar need not worry about feeding both a yearling and a newborn.
He finds @[Isobell] still sleeping, and slides his pale muzzle down the slope of her back until he reaches her withers. He nibbles gently at her mane, tugging softly to wake her.