02-17-2019, 03:03 PM
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Castile’s curiosity piqued the instant Litotes confessed he no longer had a hold on Hyaline, or even a sliver of the East. He wants to believe the lion, to accept his word so readily. It’s an interesting, albeit brief, tale. Fascinated by such a random bout of turbulence, Castile decides to extend his wings and soar among the clouds to confirm the news so easily handed to him. It’s an excuse to roam, to be honest. It has been since the plague’s beginning that he last rested his hooves on Hyaline soil. Even then, with his children and Solace held by his gaze, and his memory of being a resident, Castile never felt so detached than in that moment.
That hasn’t changed.
He’s still an outsider. Forever will be. Hyaline never had his heart.
But naturally, it has caressed the hearts of many. There had been Amet and Solace. Kagerus. Now there is a Queen, whose scent lingered on Litote and in Loess. Ever observant, Castile saw her trespass. Her scent pulled him from the inner workings of his mind, but he didn’t react. From a distance – farther than a normal eye can see – he watched her with the former Primarch until she eventually fled. That, mingled with Litote’s recent confession, ignites the fire in Castile’s gut to investigate.
Hyaline’s border eventually looms, and the draconic King descends fluidly. He doesn’t cross the border (as tempting – and familiar – as it is) but instead folds his wings and waits. His body holds steadfast, straightened and proud as he counts the minutes until he’s met.
That hasn’t changed.
He’s still an outsider. Forever will be. Hyaline never had his heart.
But naturally, it has caressed the hearts of many. There had been Amet and Solace. Kagerus. Now there is a Queen, whose scent lingered on Litote and in Loess. Ever observant, Castile saw her trespass. Her scent pulled him from the inner workings of his mind, but he didn’t react. From a distance – farther than a normal eye can see – he watched her with the former Primarch until she eventually fled. That, mingled with Litote’s recent confession, ignites the fire in Castile’s gut to investigate.
Hyaline’s border eventually looms, and the draconic King descends fluidly. He doesn’t cross the border (as tempting – and familiar – as it is) but instead folds his wings and waits. His body holds steadfast, straightened and proud as he counts the minutes until he’s met.
castile
@[Kensa]