Ivarr didn't understand the language she had suddenly decided to speak, but he guessed it had something to do with what he had just said, so he nodded along. There were only two human languages he had bothered to learn: Scottish Gaelic and English. Anything else and he couldn't be bothered, simply because he considered himself equine over human, and horses had no use for such tongues.
"No freedom?" he asked, his expression turning thoughtful, his lower lip sticking out slightly. Ivarr knew that no one would get the old days back, but he hoped to regain his freedom someday when he found others of his kind to roam the world with rather than the weird mishmash of whatever happened to be living in the Cirque at any given time. "I hope to have mine back someday in full." Khepri's telling him that she was the only one of her kind was met more with indifference than pity or jealousy. The idea that there could only be one of something was odd to him, but pity wasn't something he even knew how to feel and jealousy he could, but certainly not at that. "Oh, well," he replied with a shrug. "You seem like you're doing fine. A little cold? But fine."
His mind zeroed in on her death and predation are natural statement. It made him feel hungry again like he needed to go back to the Hunt. "I don't know Hippopotamus. Just pictures. They remind me of me." He grinned. "Not wasteful, though. Good population control."