WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT
It warmed the mare's heart to see the difference between Castile then and Castile now. He spoke with more confidence - or rather, he spoke at all - and his countenance, though perhaps troubled, reminded her of her husband's; calm, stoic, and calculated. Despite their being family, their lack of bloodly relation was glaringly obvious - for she'd been a hard-headed and loud-mouthed child, and that brazen, unabashed attitude had far from lessened as she grew into adulthood.
He responded in jest, a handsome smile curling and then fading almost absently over his lips as she imagined him to be reminiscing on said planted roots. Memories were not always sweet, and in fact often carried the bitterness of never-forgotten pain; she knew this all too well herself, and could only sit in quiet observation as she watched him live through the same. As the coastal wind blew harshly against them, she considered Castile thoughtfully, wondering if perhaps the man had more secrets than he dared reveal.
A shrug ripples through him, and she allows the thought to fade; despite being one intrusive son of a bitch, she'd learned over the years to be at peace with the hand dealt to her. Most of the time, anyway.
...Some of the time.
He spoke of staying away, elaborating on the tail end of some half-hearted chuckles as to where exactly those roots had been planted. Images of Hyaline and Loess came to the mare's mind as he mentioned them, but in the same way, she found no joy in their perfectly picturesque beauty; her home was among the cliffs, just as it had once been among the ancient red woods and the vines and the leopards. As she watched her great-nephew chew on a final phrase which came spat out on impulse, she knew in her blood that he belonged here, too.
"An escape, or are you returning home?" Her eyes, glowering like embers, sat on the man heavily. "I might not be the best to talk to as I never left the Amazons, not since my birth - but whenever my children were hurting or afraid, they sought solace at home. I suppose the distinction between the two lies in whether you're here with the intent to leave again, or here with the intent to stay." She shrugged a little as she said this, hoping that the gesture would communicate the fact that she knew that her argument had gaping holes in it; obviously there happened to be much more at play with whether one was escaping or coming for solace.
"Either way, fucking up doesn't make anything the end of the world." She looked away, then back again, a frown creasing her forehead. "You know that, right?"
Scorch
Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle
@[Castile]