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
Where there is Pteron, there is Castile. Although their blood is different – the boy is not of the dragon’s brood – there’s a bond that tethers them. Their families have been a unified force for years, bound together by sheer loyalty and friendship. There was Djinni and Nayl, then Ivar and Castile, but then the affection trickled down the ladder. Castile kept a steady watch on Lepis as a girl, but in her absence he has since adopted the placid role of watching Pteron.
The boy is a gentle soul, a playful one with wanderlust and a driven hope that his parents will soon return. Supportively, Castile voices a similar wishfulness; it would be lovely to see Lepis again, a woman grown and no longer a child. Days have passed in which the dragon king has pondered her whereabouts, but the question still remains without answer. Today, however, brings a change in the wind. It comes as a voice breaking through the peaceful day, calling to Pteron. Vigilant, Castile lifts his mismatched eyes to find the Pegasus and follow his descent. A purposeful walk separates them, but his arrival is shortly after their reunion.
”Hello,” he says following Pteron’s exuberant description. He cannot restrain the smile that surfaces across his lips as he draws to a halt in front of Wolfbane, a name he has only heard among hushed whispers. The affection exchanged means only one thing, confirming his lurking suspicions. ”I’m pleased to finally meet Pteron’s father. I hope Lepis isn’t too far behind. I haven’t seen her in years.” It’s a familial love, perhaps something that not everyone would understand. Romance was never a thing. Despite Ivar having taken Isobell as his bride, thus formally uniting the family of kelpies and dragons, Castile never held that sort of love for any of Djinni’s descendants. As much as he cared for Starlin, much like Lepis, their rendezvous had been unexpected and brief. Their son roams somewhere along Loess’ hills.
A deep lungful of air clutches to the soft lining of Castile’s nostrils and registers Wolfbane to memory.
His predatory nature is easily enough suppressed, calmed by the tenderness of the reunion, but his stance remains more formal. ”And as Pteron said, I’m Castile.” He doesn’t add that he is King, or even that he is a dragon. His features remain untouched by his draconic attributes, creating a clean slate for Wolfbane to judge.
The boy is a gentle soul, a playful one with wanderlust and a driven hope that his parents will soon return. Supportively, Castile voices a similar wishfulness; it would be lovely to see Lepis again, a woman grown and no longer a child. Days have passed in which the dragon king has pondered her whereabouts, but the question still remains without answer. Today, however, brings a change in the wind. It comes as a voice breaking through the peaceful day, calling to Pteron. Vigilant, Castile lifts his mismatched eyes to find the Pegasus and follow his descent. A purposeful walk separates them, but his arrival is shortly after their reunion.
”Hello,” he says following Pteron’s exuberant description. He cannot restrain the smile that surfaces across his lips as he draws to a halt in front of Wolfbane, a name he has only heard among hushed whispers. The affection exchanged means only one thing, confirming his lurking suspicions. ”I’m pleased to finally meet Pteron’s father. I hope Lepis isn’t too far behind. I haven’t seen her in years.” It’s a familial love, perhaps something that not everyone would understand. Romance was never a thing. Despite Ivar having taken Isobell as his bride, thus formally uniting the family of kelpies and dragons, Castile never held that sort of love for any of Djinni’s descendants. As much as he cared for Starlin, much like Lepis, their rendezvous had been unexpected and brief. Their son roams somewhere along Loess’ hills.
A deep lungful of air clutches to the soft lining of Castile’s nostrils and registers Wolfbane to memory.
His predatory nature is easily enough suppressed, calmed by the tenderness of the reunion, but his stance remains more formal. ”And as Pteron said, I’m Castile.” He doesn’t add that he is King, or even that he is a dragon. His features remain untouched by his draconic attributes, creating a clean slate for Wolfbane to judge.
castile
@[Pteron] @[Wolfbane]