12-30-2018, 08:14 PM
bottom of the deep blue sea
She wonders if perfect and happiness could kill, would they die tonight? Woven tightly, lavishing in the warm of their embrace?The two equines speak so hushed, so closely, they could have been mistaken for lovers. No one was allowed from the outside to penetrate their bond. No other would be able to break the ties between them.
Castile speaks, her heard are curled upward as he adoring gaze fixates upon his features. He has grown to be a breathtakingly handsome man, his features carved from granite under an master's skilled hand, even the gods above would have wept before his utter beauty! Isobell follows the lines of his face, tracing them, admiring the way they came together and broke apart. Then the tone, a vulnerable peek into the voided soul, her face crumples. "Never again, sweet brother..." Her voice matches his own as a furrow appears upon her scaled brow. Castile continues on, confessing the darkness, exposing his soul. Isobell can not help but press against him tighter.
The pewter eyes meet his own mismatched ones as warm autumn air pulls at their hair. Isobell is suddenly aware of how the sea beckons to her (or perhaps Ivar) but she shrugs it all off. There is only she and Castle in this moment and Isobell imagined Ivar would not attempt to rip them apart for Isobell had grown strong. "You are welcome here, Castile...you are welcome anywhere I am." Her muzzle presses to his shoulder as she draws his scent deep into her lungs. He reminds her so much of their father...
"You are not a failure." The words are punctuated with a curtness as she lifts her eyes upward to the dragonborn man. "If I ever hear that again, I will personally give you wallop." She speaks sternly before the expression melts away to her soft smile.
But with the mention of Ivar, the smile flits away. Castile speaks of taking her away...of the drowning and her shame ripples across her features. Isobell turns her head away so he may not see that Isobell believes she may never leave Ivar for there was something that kept her to him...something binding. Isobell's death had been a secret for so long that it had hardened her. The drowning had not been accidnetal on that moon filled night after the harvest, by the river. Isobell had been just a girl, bumping ehr brother's friend, a bit drunk on the sweet air and fermented fruit...then he had drove her to the water and taken the life force away...Isobell still remembers floating and the sound of her heart beating despite no longer gasping for air. She knew she was dying...she knew no one would ever find her...till the same binding magic awoke something in her...something that burned like the flayed flesh of her now puckered, scarred withers (no scale grew there now).
"Perhaps you could stay here for a bit...with me?" She asks gently, shaking away the trembles of her death as she relived it before Castile. The trauma had frozen her features momentarily as the silver eyes saw her own silent scream before the haze shook away and she once more gazed upon the beautiful features of her painted brother. There was a hopefulness he would say yes but she would never force him.