krigare;

[Castile]

Little did he know that Krigare, too, fled to solitude.
 
Funny how both parties of the battle retracted into the dark confines of their thoughts and curled their bodies in humiliation, in fear. Their emotional battles are different, but both struggled to grasp their reality. Healing their wounds took time and patience while their loved ones stood in the rain waiting for them to come home. Isobell and Solace were the quiet saviors that pulled him from the recesses of Beqanna. The serene memory of them pulled back the curtains he hid behind.
 
It has been just recently that Castile clambered from his inner darkness. Beqanna hadn’t changed much since his disappearance; it was almost as though he never left, like he was never missed. One by one, he visited those that he left behind.
 
He tells them it’s for their own reassurance, but subconsciously he wonders if it’s actually for himself.
 
A breath catches in Castile’s throat as he nomadically weaves through the soldier-like trees of the forest. He didn’t expect to find Krigare – he wasn’t close to his heart like Isobell – but he doesn’t flee from the opportunity. The rhythmic beat of his hooves comes to an abrupt halt, mismatched eyes peering through the unruliness of his forelock to better view the scars laid across Krigare’s body. They’re ugly. No scar is ever truly appealing.
 
A chill races down Castile’s spine as he briefly, precariously, reflects back to the battle. He remembers the pain that branched across his side from kicks and rears, the popping of his ear tip splitting apart, the growling behemoth that lurked beneath his surface. It’s still there, hissing now, but he suppresses it with all his strength and distracts himself by observing a swallow in the tree branches overhead.
 
One breath… Two breaths…
 
”I’m so sorry,” he mutters as he approaches faster than he anticipated. The unnerving reunion quickens his heartbeat, but he desperately breathes as levelly as possible. ”I didn’t… I don’t… I…” Castile stumbles over himself before finally swallowing the lump in his throat to compose himself. ”I haven’t quite learned to control the shifting,” a pause as he recalls his years trying to work the ability, only berthing scales or claws for a few seconds, ”and sometimes it just… happens.” Much like the night he fled from Hyaline to Sylva; the adrenaline spurred a full shift – it wasn’t a voluntary act. 

@[Krigare]

[Krigare]

He had forgiven the boy long ago.

Deep in the burning orchard of his body, he had forgiven the child as soon as the crimes were committed. Though he hadn't expected to be found by the ebony stag in his quiet thoughts as quickly as he had.

The boy approaches quickly, tossing his head in quick apologies, breaking the silence of Krigare's abode. His emerald eyes shut slowly, heart slowing as the bay stag breathes deeply into his chest.

"I forgave you a long time ago boy..."

Yet the apologies kept coming in quick spurts. They flowed from his dark lips like blood from an open wound. Krigare shook his large head, dark tresses falling in matted curls beside his eyes. 

"All is forgiven. What happened to me was none of your doing."

And so it wasn't, Krigare had done his body this great injustice. Krigare had been the one to throw himself so mercilessly into battle at such an age. Though his words didn't soothe the stallion, Krigare could practically hear his heart beating beneath the smooth skin of his chest. He speaks once more explaining his actions quickly before his body erupted.

Before Krigare was no longer an equine, but a beast. A magnificent creature with scales and talons sharp as rose thorns. The child had shifted into something Krigare had never seen before.

Part of him was smart enough to be afraid.

The other part refused his muscles the strength to run.

"Christ boy...."

Krigare whispered, awaiting any movement of the creature. He hoped that perhaps when such a shift occurred the ebony stag would remain to cling to his conscious mind, holding back on the teeth that could easily tear Krigare to shreds. 

"Christ."

((This is short im so sorry! My Muse for Krigare is still finding its footing after such a long break!<3))

[Castile]

The anxiety of their reunion isn’t enough to sustain the shift. His adrenaline isn’t enough poison to keep the monster surfaced. Its tail sweeps once, twice, slamming against trees hard enough to hear groans echo through the forest. One of the trees, smaller than the other, collapses with a heavy scream.

Before Castile’s mismatched eyes can even find Krigare or take interest in anyone, his body crumbles and reverts. The monochromatic scales recede beneath a coat of hair and the precarious talons mold into hooves. Normalcy, or at least the closest thing to it, envelopes Castile, but his eyes shut tightly together even moments after his body has returned as a horse. Fear stabs into him and shrinks him a few steps away from Krigare when he finally opens his eyes.

Silence impregnates the area between them, but by the stallion’s expression Castile already knows. The immediate ache of his muscles confirms the assumption. ”I…” he isn’t sure what to say, what could remotely improve his case or this situation. ”I went into hiding after our battle and after I met someone that spurred that full shift for the first time in my life,” honestly pours from his mouth unwarranted as though this would be consolation that he isn’t a monster, not truly at heart – he hopes. ”I don’t know what I do when I shift,” he looks to his right to see the freshly-downed tree, blinking in confusion before looking at Krigare again, ”I have no memory. It’s like I’m completely consumed when it happens, like I’m no longer myself…”

How does this even sound? How can he be trusted by anyone when he can’t even control himself?

A full-bodied sigh escapes through him as he levels his softened gaze on Krigare. ”I really just wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to cause so much harm…”

@[Krigare]