there are reasons to leave; castile

[sochi]

sochi

This pregnancy was not like her first.

She has never been someone who was made to be a mother. She did not coddle her children or dream of them when her stomach swelled with life. She was not someone known for her overflowing heart—although those close to her are privy to glimpses of it. But she has loved her children. She has loved their fierceness and their quiet and she mourns for her son who she has not been able to find.

No matter how many nights she hunts.

Not matter how many tracks she follows.

But this child—this child does not feel like her own. It grows and expands within her and she hates it more and more each day. When the time comes for the birthing, she feels the pressure growing within her and there is a strange sense of dread and relief that coils within her. She closes her eyes and hunts for a space that is safe; a space where she can be trusted not to be found by anyone other than Castile. 

The moments and hours that pass in the aftermath are a blur.

Before she knows it, she is damp with sweat and the child has slipped to the ground. Sochi closes her silver eyes and takes steadying breaths to try and find her center. When she can finally bring herself to it, she turns around to see the pup on the ground. The child is a mass of black fur, yawning and stretching out delicate jaws with the promise of destruction on them. Sochi snarls low and deep in her throat and gets ready to lunge before the child shifts and is a tangle of equine limbs—the same iridescent as her face.

She catches herself in the lunge and stutters, pauses, draws back with a sharp inhale.

The girl opens her eyes—black and depthless—smiling quietly as she blinks up.

Sochi just shakes and takes a step back, swallowing hard.

well, I can try to get you closer but I know you’d break your neck just to see the stars
and if we don’t dare to hold it then this reckless wandering love was never ours

@[Castile]