01-26-2018, 11:36 AM
Loess. It’s the kingdom he fought for, that his friend commands, that he had last decided. It was his place of residence, not yet a home or a place that his heart beats only for. It’s a place littered with rocky outcroppings and noise, with individuals wanting a refuge and a place to sleep. Most followed Ivar there; he was their muse and their fascination. Undoubtedly, he has a charm to lure women to his kingdom – and to his bed based on Isobell’s lust for him – and Castile questions his ability to mirror that.
The field, he knows, is the initial step, but he hesitates as the tall grass meets him, kissing the bottoms of his knees. There are many here, he quietly observes while suppressing the rise in his pulse, trying best to not allow his embarrassment to shift any part of him again. Control: the word echoes in the crevices of his mind, applying a temporary balm as he forges on.
Mismatched eyes glance back and forth searching for someone – anyone – but rather than voluntarily approaching, he finds himself suddenly between the two mares. A slow, thoughtful blink, and then a sheepish, ”Uhh,” before reeling backward. ”My apologies for interrupting…” he almost turns away to resume his search, his heart quickening to a deafening hammer against his ribcage. How he didn’t see them is baffling, but as he begins to pivot, he catches a small snippet of their conversation. Tephra, he hears, then a place to settle. His curiosity dwells longer on Tephra – the creature within him coils with interest – as he recalls the volcano that reaches skyward. Lava, heat, smoke… It’s everything he would want – need – to fuel the monster now rattling its cage bars.
That’s why he mustn’t go.
Clearing his throat, he inches a step back again to look at them both, suddenly deciding to join them. ”I’m Castile,” a name they can now associate with his awkwardness, ”from Loess. It’s another nice place to settle if you like options.” Beneath his unruly forelock, a slow blink of self-disapproval. And suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he has gone from a nonchalant stallion to a rambling colt.
The field, he knows, is the initial step, but he hesitates as the tall grass meets him, kissing the bottoms of his knees. There are many here, he quietly observes while suppressing the rise in his pulse, trying best to not allow his embarrassment to shift any part of him again. Control: the word echoes in the crevices of his mind, applying a temporary balm as he forges on.
Mismatched eyes glance back and forth searching for someone – anyone – but rather than voluntarily approaching, he finds himself suddenly between the two mares. A slow, thoughtful blink, and then a sheepish, ”Uhh,” before reeling backward. ”My apologies for interrupting…” he almost turns away to resume his search, his heart quickening to a deafening hammer against his ribcage. How he didn’t see them is baffling, but as he begins to pivot, he catches a small snippet of their conversation. Tephra, he hears, then a place to settle. His curiosity dwells longer on Tephra – the creature within him coils with interest – as he recalls the volcano that reaches skyward. Lava, heat, smoke… It’s everything he would want – need – to fuel the monster now rattling its cage bars.
That’s why he mustn’t go.
Clearing his throat, he inches a step back again to look at them both, suddenly deciding to join them. ”I’m Castile,” a name they can now associate with his awkwardness, ”from Loess. It’s another nice place to settle if you like options.” Beneath his unruly forelock, a slow blink of self-disapproval. And suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he has gone from a nonchalant stallion to a rambling colt.