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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    where the stolen roses grow - castile
    #2
    The dappled sunlight is a comfort to him in the heart of winter. Although his stomach churns with an inner heat, he can’t help the occasional shiver that cartwheels down the length of his spine when a bitter wind presses against his skin. With a frigid gale present, Castile opts to keep his wings feathered, preferring the insulation they provide to the leather dragon wings that he most often frequents.

    While in solitude, Castile lets his mind unravel and wander to greater heights than he can reach. Ciri crosses his mind, as does Amet, Ivar, and Isobell. Mother, father, too. Each of them have their own responsibilities and lives while Castile aimlessly floats on the outskirts with no obligations to tether him down. Oftentimes he wonders if despair should be shadowing him, but the idea quickly flickers away as he considers all that he has and all that he could have, should he ever want it. With a resigning shrug, he blinks and pulls himself sluggishly from his daze in time to see the girl nearly bump into him.

    Rarely unkind, he offers an amiable, boyish grin just as his mismatched eyes meet hers. The bright blue catches him off guard – he is accustomed to golds and pewters that he has almost forgotten any other color – but it doesn’t at all rattle his smile. ”Castile,” his head tilts subtly to one side as he desperately gropes for conversation, ”it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Cheesy, he muses, but it’s something to push away the looming quiet. The softness of her voice lures his interest, hooking him, but he is already close enough. He can nearly feel her body heat fan across him. ”What brings you to the river, Solace?” The taste of her name is honey, delectable and addictive.

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    Messages In This Thread
    where the stolen roses grow - castile - by Solace - 10-30-2017, 06:03 PM
    RE: where the stolen roses grow - castile - by Castile - 11-03-2017, 04:59 PM



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