10-15-2017, 07:44 PM
Castile loves how her body melts into his, the space hot with their body temperatures rising beneath the summer sun. If there was one thing he learned from his parents, it was adoration. They coddled each other in ways that Castile had never before seen. They loved each other. They looked into each other’s eyes and whispered honeyed words beneath the cloak of nightfall where they were safe from prying eyes. Even as a colt, still nursing, he observed them and decided he wanted that. It wouldn’t be soon. Even now, he wonders how late in life until someone comes into his life that he can cradle against his side much like he is with Isobell now.
He wanted his parent’s love, but in the meantime, he is comfortable with the adoration blossoming in his heart every time he looks upon his sister. All of his energy goes into watching her, into caring for her, into protecting her. With Lior and Nayl preoccupied, Castile vows to himself to always ensure that Isobell is well loved and cared for. It is his job, he muses, and one that he takes pride in.
”That’s all I can do right now at my will, so don’t get too excited.” A light-hearted laughter brews from his gut and echoes in the air around them. If there was anyone he could comfortably admit to, it was Isobell. ”The other parts happen randomly still. I noticed it happens with adrenaline or extreme emotions. I completely shifted when I flew from Hyaline to Sylva to retrieve Djinni. Hyaline was burning and under attack. I haven’t been able to do it since and I don’t want to pester dad.” He wants to learn on his own, ideally, so he can have the satisfaction of not having any help. Is it pride? Arrogance? Stubbornness? He isn’t quite sure. But to master his shifting would be to truly protect her. He could be like father.
Father was a guardian. He was a silent protector in Nerine.
”No, I’m not going home,” he almost chokes on the final word as he struggles to map a place as such anymore. For Isobell, however, he agrees to decide on Nerine as home because he doesn’t want her to think he abandoned her. So, he doesn’t admit that the ties he had with lands is so loose and that he doesn’t have an aching for any place in particular. ”I will be checking out Loess with Ivar,” the confession comes easily enough since she’s aware of the friendship, ”and you, my darling sister? Where will fate be taking you?” His chin rests momentarily on her poll, not wanting to peel away from her or to no longer feel her body warmth. Beneath the heat of summer, he tries to still hold her close but savors when a cool breeze passes by.
He wanted his parent’s love, but in the meantime, he is comfortable with the adoration blossoming in his heart every time he looks upon his sister. All of his energy goes into watching her, into caring for her, into protecting her. With Lior and Nayl preoccupied, Castile vows to himself to always ensure that Isobell is well loved and cared for. It is his job, he muses, and one that he takes pride in.
”That’s all I can do right now at my will, so don’t get too excited.” A light-hearted laughter brews from his gut and echoes in the air around them. If there was anyone he could comfortably admit to, it was Isobell. ”The other parts happen randomly still. I noticed it happens with adrenaline or extreme emotions. I completely shifted when I flew from Hyaline to Sylva to retrieve Djinni. Hyaline was burning and under attack. I haven’t been able to do it since and I don’t want to pester dad.” He wants to learn on his own, ideally, so he can have the satisfaction of not having any help. Is it pride? Arrogance? Stubbornness? He isn’t quite sure. But to master his shifting would be to truly protect her. He could be like father.
Father was a guardian. He was a silent protector in Nerine.
”No, I’m not going home,” he almost chokes on the final word as he struggles to map a place as such anymore. For Isobell, however, he agrees to decide on Nerine as home because he doesn’t want her to think he abandoned her. So, he doesn’t admit that the ties he had with lands is so loose and that he doesn’t have an aching for any place in particular. ”I will be checking out Loess with Ivar,” the confession comes easily enough since she’s aware of the friendship, ”and you, my darling sister? Where will fate be taking you?” His chin rests momentarily on her poll, not wanting to peel away from her or to no longer feel her body warmth. Beneath the heat of summer, he tries to still hold her close but savors when a cool breeze passes by.