A brief frown tugged the corners of Iscariot’s lips downward as his icy-blue eyes regarded his sibling following her relenting words. The silver bay never surrendered a fight - whether literal or figurative - so he wondered what her true motivation was in doing so. It only took the span of one inhale for the pale stallion to conclude that her decision could not be for his sake, as Rivaini knew that - despite his teasing - he would not truly derive any pleasure from humiliating her. As Çiçek celebrated her victory, Iscariot mulled over the red mare’s strange behavior. Perhaps her earlier silence had been indicative of something wrong after all. She certainly seemed different in the company of this golden mare; her tone of voice more careful and reserved despite the determinedly light tone she spoke in. It was a side of Rivaini that he hadn’t seen since they had left home, and worried him.
But the perlino’s keen gaze missed nothing either, and when the dunalino nudged his sister towards the jungle, he saw the way that she reacted to her touch. Lips parting slightly to exhale her breath in an inaudible sigh, a gentle shiver trailing down the length of her spine. And with a slight shake of his own head that mirrored the silver bay’s from earlier - and a similar roll of his own eyes - he fell in step on her other side as Çiçek instructed, his concerns eased. Of course. Things were rarely simple with Rivaini, but this at least he could understand. After all, the stallion who had long since accepted his own limitations and who had become comfortable with himself over the years reacted much the same in Faolain’s presence. Around the black ‘Teke, he felt as awkward as clumsy and awkward as a gangly-legged foal still learning to navigate the world. And about as clever, too.
Rivaini made a show of balking once or twice during the short journey over to the jungle’s edge. But her heart wasn’t truly in the fight, and it showed; it was too easy to coax her back into motion. And instead of seeking an escape route, her gaze remained focused on the spotted mare, watching her movements with a sort of fascination. Çiçek was a graceful creature by nature, and her high-stepping strides were a captivating dance to the more muscular - and less agile - Andalusian. Resisting the inexplicable urge to join in and make an utter arse of herself, Rivaini switched to a different tactic to distract the dunalino’s flattering - and flustering - attention from herself.
“So if we’re playing dress up, does that mean we can expect another visit from your friend Solomon soon?” She asked in a manner that was perhaps too innocent, especially given the emphasis she put on the word friend. “If so, he better be ready to receive the same attentions from you. It’s only fair.” If the champagne stallion was anything like Rivaini remembered, she didn’t think he would be too tickled about being adorned with flowers. But his discomfort might make her own worthwhile. And if he was to be excluded from that sort of activity, then the auburn mare would simply have to comment on how her dearest Çiçek had cared so much to pay such particular attention to her beloved Guardians’ appearance. For all that he had been interesting - and charming, even - Rivaini still considered the painted stallion to be a rival, particularly when it came to the golden mare’s affection.
She didn’t even consider the possibility that that battle may have already been lost.
Iscariot didn’t follow the direction the conversation was taking, but perceived that there was more to what his sibling was trying to communicate than the words that she spoke. He was aware that a stallion had visited, of course - the scent on the beach was hard to mistake, as unfamiliar as it had been - but it wasn’t really concerning to him. The perlino trusted Faolain and Rivaini without pause; he knew they would not let any harm come to him, and it was obvious that both cared for Çiçek as well. But he did wonder whether the spotted dunalino might inevitably fall prey to the siren’s call of the opposite gender, and one day leave the Ridge. If she wanted more than a family that was chosen, it might well be necessary - Ailill was here, of course, but Iscariot didn’t know whether he was interested in gathering a harem. And he, of course, could no more fulfill that purpose than he could defend the Ridge from those who might seek to claim it.
In fact, given the way things had turned out, Iscariot often wondered if it hadn’t been some cruel jest of Fate that he - weak and unassuming creature that he was - was his father’s son, while Rivaini who had been born with the willpower and strength to rule their old home.
ISCARIOT & RIVAINI
i can see your light |