12-30-2018, 06:45 PM
Out of the ocean, his mind is clearer. The water runs glittering rivulents down Ivar's scaled cheek as his head hilts to listen to Clayton, the green haired stallion who speaks up and identifies them both, along with their origin. Yes, there is something of the mountains in their scent. Such things are easily obscured by the saltwater, so Ivar rarely pays them any mind.
His last visit to the Hyalinian Mountains had ended just short of satisfaction. It is a challenge he's not yet been able to check of his bucket list, and it keeps his golden eyes focused on the flaxen mare even as her companion continues to speak.
"We are a territory of the east, loyal to ourselves." Ivar says to Kensa. Let them think that it is because he knows her now to be the higher ranking of the two visitors, and the kelpie's high-minded snobbery makes him think less of Clayton. (This is not true, of course, but Ivar makes no effort to correct the potential assumption).
"My Khaleesi, Isobell, and I have no allegiances." The tricolored male names the former Queen of Nerine, mostly because he knows she'd like it, but also perhaps because it conveniently contradicts the delighted way he grins at Kensa's statement of interest in the island. "We can be friends, I think." Replies the kelpie, nodding softly. "I have some interest in Pangea, after all." Specifically interests in a certain dark-haired woman with lovely tentacles, but the stallion knows better than to mention too many mares in front of Kensa.
He can't have too much of a reputation, after all.
"And what would being friends entail?" Ivar asks, glancing back toward the horned Clayton as well for this answer. He adds: "I suppose introducing ourselves. I'm Ivar," as though just realizing this omission.
@[Clayton] @[Kensa]
His last visit to the Hyalinian Mountains had ended just short of satisfaction. It is a challenge he's not yet been able to check of his bucket list, and it keeps his golden eyes focused on the flaxen mare even as her companion continues to speak.
"We are a territory of the east, loyal to ourselves." Ivar says to Kensa. Let them think that it is because he knows her now to be the higher ranking of the two visitors, and the kelpie's high-minded snobbery makes him think less of Clayton. (This is not true, of course, but Ivar makes no effort to correct the potential assumption).
"My Khaleesi, Isobell, and I have no allegiances." The tricolored male names the former Queen of Nerine, mostly because he knows she'd like it, but also perhaps because it conveniently contradicts the delighted way he grins at Kensa's statement of interest in the island. "We can be friends, I think." Replies the kelpie, nodding softly. "I have some interest in Pangea, after all." Specifically interests in a certain dark-haired woman with lovely tentacles, but the stallion knows better than to mention too many mares in front of Kensa.
He can't have too much of a reputation, after all.
"And what would being friends entail?" Ivar asks, glancing back toward the horned Clayton as well for this answer. He adds: "I suppose introducing ourselves. I'm Ivar," as though just realizing this omission.
@[Clayton] @[Kensa]