11-02-2019, 10:09 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 observes every intricate detail of her face and coat as she rises to her feet to unsteadily lean against him. A smile lifts the corners of his mouth, mirroring the warmth that blossoms in his chest. Slowly, he reaches down, his baroque neck arching, and presses his muzzle gingerly against the child’s head. A deliberate breath is drawn in, memorizing her immediately when she echoes him. Yes family, he doesn’t say, but nods in quiet agreement when her gaze lifts to his own.
Such a delicate girl, but there is strength in her bones and in her blood. What thrives within her is shared among them all, but he doesn’t force this onto her, not yet.
The wind chill is biting and though it distracts him from feeding her much more information, it’s an invitation for closeness. Like a father, he caresses her then plays with her short, mohawk. ”No name, huh?” This has never been a forte of his. Much of the naming has fallen into the hands of mothers, but he doesn’t bring it up to her. It’s a wound he wants to heal, a pain that he wants to mend while there is time. Rolling his muscular shoulders, he considers how beautiful she is, even in her youthful innocence. He notes her golden points, how similar they are to Tiphon’s. And her bright eyes, meddling with the soft lines of her face.
”Okay,” a sigh passes through his lungs, acquiescing and making a decision. ”Clarissa. Your name now is Clarissa. Does that sound okay?” A smile broadens with an underlying touch of pride to have devised it himself, to have helped in forming another generation of his family. ”I will take care of you,” he pauses to nudge her again, still clutching her to his warm side, ”You’re safe here, with me.”
Such a delicate girl, but there is strength in her bones and in her blood. What thrives within her is shared among them all, but he doesn’t force this onto her, not yet.
The wind chill is biting and though it distracts him from feeding her much more information, it’s an invitation for closeness. Like a father, he caresses her then plays with her short, mohawk. ”No name, huh?” This has never been a forte of his. Much of the naming has fallen into the hands of mothers, but he doesn’t bring it up to her. It’s a wound he wants to heal, a pain that he wants to mend while there is time. Rolling his muscular shoulders, he considers how beautiful she is, even in her youthful innocence. He notes her golden points, how similar they are to Tiphon’s. And her bright eyes, meddling with the soft lines of her face.
”Okay,” a sigh passes through his lungs, acquiescing and making a decision. ”Clarissa. Your name now is Clarissa. Does that sound okay?” A smile broadens with an underlying touch of pride to have devised it himself, to have helped in forming another generation of his family. ”I will take care of you,” he pauses to nudge her again, still clutching her to his warm side, ”You’re safe here, with me.”
castile
@[clarissa]