As soon as Winny explained to him that there was a doll in an inconvenient spot, he was quick to warn her again. "Don't move it!" He bit his lip, wondering if the warning had sounded too severe, more like a brutish shout than him actually trying to help. "Just..." he trailed off, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. "Just wait until we're gone from here to do anything about it."
Staying where he was, toes curling into the mud, Ivarr watched the small and undoubtedly very young compared to him human start taking off clothes. The state of her undergarments didn't bother him, he only wondered why, if she was going to go that far, she didn't take it all off. Unlike most of the male species, he had never been one to leer or ogle the female form. Being naked was simple and natural. "Weekly shipments?" he asked, glancing at the bottle of whiskey. "Hippies must be rich."
As soon as he got the go-ahead to take off his robe, he downed the last of the whiskey in his cup, belched loudly, tossed the cup aside and shucked off the irritating garment. Letting it fall to the ground at his feet, he rushed toward her bag, rifling through it in search of the chocolate chips. When he found them, he got a handful and smooshed his palm against his face, most going into his mouth but some dribbling out into the mud. "Mmmm!" His cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's.
The taste of chocolate always reminded him of the first people he had actually liked and not eaten. He had been doing his thing back in Scotland, standing by a river as a black stallion complete with saddle and bridle when a small group of Scots had come along, one immediately seeing him for what he was. There could not be a horse looking so healthy and so fine wearing a silver bridle in all of Scotland during those times so it could only be one thing. One of the men had implored him to go up the road to kill the British soldiers that had just arrested his brother for being in possession of one simple scrap of MacGillivray tartan. Their belief in the Kelpie had been enough for him, so he'd taken off down the road, done his thing, making sure to think over and over to himself only the red uniforms so that he didn't accidentally take the brother in question.
It had been those ragtag post-Culloden remnants of Clan MacGillivray that had taken him in and brought him over to the colonies with them in search of something better. One of those better things? Drinking chocolate. He remembered the first time one of the boys had dragged him into one of those new cafes that served the drink and he had sat in a corner hunched over a steaming cup, staring at his own five-fingered hands that he was still unfamiliar with. When he finally tried the drink, he found it to be one of the most divine things he had ever had outside of his Kelpie eating habits. It was the beginning of his chocolate addiction, and he always remembered the long-dead MacGillivrays whenever he had it. That was the trouble with immortality. He liked people sometimes, but then they would die and all that was left was his memories of them.
"Tastes like home, too." Though this time he meant a different kind of home. He ate another handful, chocolate dripping down his chin before he stood up and decided to join Winny in the river. Ivarr was more bull in a china shop about it, rushing into the water and diving right under, surfacing in the deepest part of it. "It's too warm! But it's still a river. You really not a swimmer?"