03-30-2018, 10:32 AM
What happened?
The question has been pestering him for days – or has it been weeks? – but he has thus far been unable to devise an answer.
Castile was able to finally track his way home from Tephra’s volcano, his body weak, exhausted, and bloody. Loess was far beyond the sea channel, but minutes felt like hours as his wings trembled from exertion. He has been diligently tending to himself since then, soaking himself in the springs and resting as often as he could underneath the warm sunlight. Often times, he wandered toward Hyaline’s border where the lands kissed. Solace is just beyond the hills, he tells himself, but her pretty face is the last memory he had before everything swirled into a black void and was lost.
In reality, Castile is afraid of what happened.
Her face. He shifted. What then?
A breath catches in his throat when he sees her looming toward the border he so aimlessly trails. The muscles in his body are pulled taut like ropes and his jaw clenches. Deep in his chest, his heart pounds dangerously against his ribs. Yet he hesitates. His metallic eyes dart toward the bosom of Loess, but they trace back to Solace again, unable to fathom the idea of abandoning her. There’s a magnetic pull that he cannot ignore, and before he can even tell himself to stay, his legs are already moving toward her.
What stretches across her neck, however, isn’t what he expected.
There’s an intensity in Castile’s stare as he scrutinizes the puckered scars on her body, but his gaze cannot help to soften when they level on her face. ”Solace,” her name is still honey on his tongue, ”what happened?” But his gut wrenches in fear – in half-knowing – that he did this to her.
Solace’s face. Then his world went black.
He attacked her.
Those scars are from him.
Emotion chokes him of asking more questions. Fear of himself – of the truth – keep him from pulling her into a familiar embrace.
The question has been pestering him for days – or has it been weeks? – but he has thus far been unable to devise an answer.
Castile was able to finally track his way home from Tephra’s volcano, his body weak, exhausted, and bloody. Loess was far beyond the sea channel, but minutes felt like hours as his wings trembled from exertion. He has been diligently tending to himself since then, soaking himself in the springs and resting as often as he could underneath the warm sunlight. Often times, he wandered toward Hyaline’s border where the lands kissed. Solace is just beyond the hills, he tells himself, but her pretty face is the last memory he had before everything swirled into a black void and was lost.
In reality, Castile is afraid of what happened.
Her face. He shifted. What then?
A breath catches in his throat when he sees her looming toward the border he so aimlessly trails. The muscles in his body are pulled taut like ropes and his jaw clenches. Deep in his chest, his heart pounds dangerously against his ribs. Yet he hesitates. His metallic eyes dart toward the bosom of Loess, but they trace back to Solace again, unable to fathom the idea of abandoning her. There’s a magnetic pull that he cannot ignore, and before he can even tell himself to stay, his legs are already moving toward her.
What stretches across her neck, however, isn’t what he expected.
There’s an intensity in Castile’s stare as he scrutinizes the puckered scars on her body, but his gaze cannot help to soften when they level on her face. ”Solace,” her name is still honey on his tongue, ”what happened?” But his gut wrenches in fear – in half-knowing – that he did this to her.
Solace’s face. Then his world went black.
He attacked her.
Those scars are from him.
Emotion chokes him of asking more questions. Fear of himself – of the truth – keep him from pulling her into a familiar embrace.