02-10-2019, 10:40 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
It’s interesting how they trickle in, drawn forward by their own reasons and ambitions. Castile is familiar with it, the influx of visitors when a new monarch ascends the throne. Although mother had gained her crown prior to his birth, she told him of it. Even when Amet gained Hyaline and Djinni Sylva, Castile occasionally wandered from Nayl’s watchful eye to visit and observe how life poured into the veins of each land. With new royalty, there are new opportunities.
He doesn’t know whether she will stay, this wintry queen, as she struts and teases the border of Loess. Castile watches her intently while he bathes himself in the hot summer sun. It wraps around him like a blanket and lifts his body temperature higher, even as a fire churns in his gut every minute of every day. For a long while, she holds his attention. His eyes flicker from reptilian to equine, analyzing how her heart beats nearly in rhythm to her footsteps – calm, nonchalant, but proud. She isn’t prey, not even close, and so he blinks again to see her – to truly see her instead of blood and pulse. How interesting it will be for their elements to conspire and merge.
The shrubs are thin here, but he still eases around them with enough girth. His mismatched eyes are unyielding, clutching to her image as he closes the distance between them. The metallic sheen of his locks catches the sunlight as he takes his final place in front of her. A lopsided grin softens the hard lines of his face as he first regards her, then the wintry storm cloud hovering above her. In play – more for his amusement – he breathes a small plume of flame into the cloud, melting the immediate snowflakes into rain. He didn’t entirely know what to expect, but he isn’t disappointed. Lowering his gaze, he shrugs mildly, ”Sorry to rain on your parade.” A cheesy thing to say, but he doesn’t take it back even in the quiet moments that follow.
Waiting for the steam to subside and the black smoke coiling from his nostrils to fade, he finally offers a simple introduction. ”The name’s Castile.”
He doesn’t know whether she will stay, this wintry queen, as she struts and teases the border of Loess. Castile watches her intently while he bathes himself in the hot summer sun. It wraps around him like a blanket and lifts his body temperature higher, even as a fire churns in his gut every minute of every day. For a long while, she holds his attention. His eyes flicker from reptilian to equine, analyzing how her heart beats nearly in rhythm to her footsteps – calm, nonchalant, but proud. She isn’t prey, not even close, and so he blinks again to see her – to truly see her instead of blood and pulse. How interesting it will be for their elements to conspire and merge.
The shrubs are thin here, but he still eases around them with enough girth. His mismatched eyes are unyielding, clutching to her image as he closes the distance between them. The metallic sheen of his locks catches the sunlight as he takes his final place in front of her. A lopsided grin softens the hard lines of his face as he first regards her, then the wintry storm cloud hovering above her. In play – more for his amusement – he breathes a small plume of flame into the cloud, melting the immediate snowflakes into rain. He didn’t entirely know what to expect, but he isn’t disappointed. Lowering his gaze, he shrugs mildly, ”Sorry to rain on your parade.” A cheesy thing to say, but he doesn’t take it back even in the quiet moments that follow.
Waiting for the steam to subside and the black smoke coiling from his nostrils to fade, he finally offers a simple introduction. ”The name’s Castile.”
castile
@[Kora]