Isobell. Sweet, sweet Isobell. He misses her. His heart aches for the warm touch of her skin and the liquid fire of her voice. How long has it been since he last felt her curl innocently into his side so that he could brush her forelock from her eyes. There is no denying how much Castile loves his one and only sister.
His aimless wanderings have led him here and his heart lurches when he draws in a breath and drinks in the familiar scent of her. His senses pique. Mismatched eyes blink then roll left and right in search of her in this heavily-populated river land. Every fiber of his being is suddenly on overdrive, his adrenaline pouring into his veins. ”Isobell,” he tastes her name and it’s nectar on his tongue, so decadent and sweet. He is almost considering taking flight to search for her face from above, but he takes pause with another breath.
For a heartbeat, she is alone and undistracted by the world’s temptations. He sees no other stallions trying to whisk her away to a land far from Nerine; relief washes across him because it is too soon in the day for his anger to blind him of his inhibitions.
There is a break in the crowd, one in which he takes advantage of to reach her. His wings tuck tightly to his sides in attempt to avoid all contact with strangers, saving himself for her only. Without even realizing, Castile’s pace quickens as the distance closes between them until his chest is against her shoulders, his head draped lovingly across her neck. ”Isobell,” he whispers her name again, the taste of it more familiar now as he wraps himself around her and presses a kiss to the arch of her neck. ”I’ve missed you, little sister,” if there is one thing he learned from father, it was certainly how to love.
His aimless wanderings have led him here and his heart lurches when he draws in a breath and drinks in the familiar scent of her. His senses pique. Mismatched eyes blink then roll left and right in search of her in this heavily-populated river land. Every fiber of his being is suddenly on overdrive, his adrenaline pouring into his veins. ”Isobell,” he tastes her name and it’s nectar on his tongue, so decadent and sweet. He is almost considering taking flight to search for her face from above, but he takes pause with another breath.
For a heartbeat, she is alone and undistracted by the world’s temptations. He sees no other stallions trying to whisk her away to a land far from Nerine; relief washes across him because it is too soon in the day for his anger to blind him of his inhibitions.
There is a break in the crowd, one in which he takes advantage of to reach her. His wings tuck tightly to his sides in attempt to avoid all contact with strangers, saving himself for her only. Without even realizing, Castile’s pace quickens as the distance closes between them until his chest is against her shoulders, his head draped lovingly across her neck. ”Isobell,” he whispers her name again, the taste of it more familiar now as he wraps himself around her and presses a kiss to the arch of her neck. ”I’ve missed you, little sister,” if there is one thing he learned from father, it was certainly how to love.
@[Isobell] @[Elle Belle]