11-19-2018, 09:15 AM
Were he the humming sort, the piebald stallion would surely be carrying a cheerful tune as he picks his way along the white sand shore. Each hoofprint he leaves is damp, the saltwater still dripping from his thickly scaled fetlocks and his tangled hair. Ivar is not hungry for the first time in years, and it adds an uncharacteristic lightness to his step as he moves down the beach.
There is no one in sight.
That is to be expected, but Ivar pauses for the first time since leaving the water and his wife to look out at the waves and not simply the land.
There.
A few dozen meter out to sea is a flash of movement, dark and light that is not patterned in the signature palette of the orcas. One of his children. Ivar step into the shallows, moving toward them. Too large to be Kalliope, so one of the boys. Too agile for Crashe, Ivar thinks, and ducks beneath the turquoise water to swim out to @[Lothbrok] in the warm water.
There is no one in sight.
That is to be expected, but Ivar pauses for the first time since leaving the water and his wife to look out at the waves and not simply the land.
There.
A few dozen meter out to sea is a flash of movement, dark and light that is not patterned in the signature palette of the orcas. One of his children. Ivar step into the shallows, moving toward them. Too large to be Kalliope, so one of the boys. Too agile for Crashe, Ivar thinks, and ducks beneath the turquoise water to swim out to @[Lothbrok] in the warm water.