01-18-2019, 10:33 PM
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Finally, after all this time, Castile has a land to call his home. So many years were spent nomadic, drifting from one place to another with the coming and going of seasons. Now that this is his, he wants desperately to organize it and truly mark it as his own. His mind trails away, considering his options while Sabra coldly stares him down. Anger is raging through her – rightfully so – and he does nothing to tamper it. There isn’t a way he can fix this, not yet or now, because it’s his own recklessness and poor decisions that have led them into such a turbulent scenario. Their relationship was built on a fiery and combative foundation. They battled in the Alliance, and he had lost his composure then, too. His bloodlust overwhelmed him and he tasted her blood. That’s how they met.
There has never been a true sense of tenderness between them. They are fire and gasoline – explosive together.
”I have only ever been apologetic,” he suddenly snaps with flames crackling in his eyes, ”I went to apologize to you in Sylva after our battle. I told you I was dangerous! I’ve warned everyone but no one listens and then they get hurt. Surprise, surprise!” There had been Solace first, and now Sabra. Ciri, fortunately, fell into Amet’s arms before she could be faced with a similar outcome. Life has made it apparent that he is not meant for tender love and adoration. Every attempt, he ruined. Every hopeful moment, he destroyed.
A breath catches in his throat, and he, admittedly, wants to lunge and replay their last meeting (more blood on his hands), but he refrains. Cord-like muscles coil underneath his taut skin as he inches back, dragging his hooves slowly through the sand to increase the space between them. ”I want my children here. All of them. Their mothers, too, if they so want. This will be a place for my family,” the amplitude of his voice gradually increases as spines appear down the length of his neck and back, ”and I will be damned if I run from my family again.” It happened once before, years ago when his twins were newborns, but he has long since promised to be present, to never abandon them again.
There has never been a true sense of tenderness between them. They are fire and gasoline – explosive together.
”I have only ever been apologetic,” he suddenly snaps with flames crackling in his eyes, ”I went to apologize to you in Sylva after our battle. I told you I was dangerous! I’ve warned everyone but no one listens and then they get hurt. Surprise, surprise!” There had been Solace first, and now Sabra. Ciri, fortunately, fell into Amet’s arms before she could be faced with a similar outcome. Life has made it apparent that he is not meant for tender love and adoration. Every attempt, he ruined. Every hopeful moment, he destroyed.
A breath catches in his throat, and he, admittedly, wants to lunge and replay their last meeting (more blood on his hands), but he refrains. Cord-like muscles coil underneath his taut skin as he inches back, dragging his hooves slowly through the sand to increase the space between them. ”I want my children here. All of them. Their mothers, too, if they so want. This will be a place for my family,” the amplitude of his voice gradually increases as spines appear down the length of his neck and back, ”and I will be damned if I run from my family again.” It happened once before, years ago when his twins were newborns, but he has long since promised to be present, to never abandon them again.
castile
@[Sabra]