[open] The quiet can ruin you; ANY

[Castile]

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 coy grin splits apart his lips, a plume of blackened smoke coiling from his nostrils as she confirms an interesting philosophy. His head tilts, brushing his metallic forelock away from his eyes as they level on her own. ”That seems lonely,” he comments heavily, but with the tribulations he has faced so far in life, it’s a plausible concept. It weighs on his mind for a moment, lingering at the edge of his thoughts before blinking and shuffling it aside. ”So, I should still be quite wary of you,” mischief gleams in his eyes and sweeps across his face. ”I do warn you, though. I am not someone to cross. I don’t have the greatest temper when I’m betrayed,” but it’s so much more than that. It isn’t just a stab of a knife, or venomous words. There is power far greater within him that can bring her pain and suffering. He would make her regret everything.

She would regret meeting him.

That is often a fault of his, however. So willing is Castile to throw his trust into others, to embrace them all even when it has bitten him time and time again. There are periods of mistrust, but so many more in which he opens himself only to be gored by his mistakes.

But she reassures that she is here on her own accord, and so he falls into his habitual pit and leans into this blooming friendship with bright eyes. ”Once you’ve had your fill of the fresh water,” he jests in lighthearted humor as he inches closer, drawn to her confidence and purring voice, ”perhaps we can visit one of the lands together. I do believe there is trouble brewing and I refuse to allow Loess to face it unprepared or alone.” A brow lifts because although she deems herself not a diplomat nor a warrior, this will at least provide an opportunity to learn and familiarize each other as the storm cloud looms nearer. 

castile