11-04-2018, 06:58 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
”Yes, Sabra,” his breath is hot and blankets across her entire body as she stirs for the very first time. It startles him, but Castile doesn’t slip away or even add the slightest amount of space between them. Still resting in his dragon’s body, his tail wraps around their immediate area, his titanic wing still being held above them like a tent. ”Sabra,” he cannot resist tasting her name again on his tongue, even if it barely sounds more than a growl rumbling from his throat.
He so desperately wants to hold her, to never let her go, but she is struggling to find her feet and she is so, so weak.
But she is alive.
Castile’s heart bursts seeing her eyes slowly open to look at him and to hear the sound of her voice again. He never realized how much he would miss it, how dear she truly is to him. Sabra sees a tenderness in him that he reserves only for his family now – they are all that matter.
He wants to respond to her, to verbally acquiesce, but a lump has formed in his throat and he’s unable to. In its place, Castile slithers his tail closer to her to play as a support wall. To complement it, his large snout gingerly presses to her, providing as much assistance as possible. He would be useless as a horse. Fleetingly, he considers lifting her with a paw, but shies from the potential of scraping her with a sharpened talon. But the gentleness that he touches her is met with a soft expression of his eyes. ”You’re alive,” he says, the words truly audible and understandable for the first time.
He so desperately wants to hold her, to never let her go, but she is struggling to find her feet and she is so, so weak.
But she is alive.
Castile’s heart bursts seeing her eyes slowly open to look at him and to hear the sound of her voice again. He never realized how much he would miss it, how dear she truly is to him. Sabra sees a tenderness in him that he reserves only for his family now – they are all that matter.
He wants to respond to her, to verbally acquiesce, but a lump has formed in his throat and he’s unable to. In its place, Castile slithers his tail closer to her to play as a support wall. To complement it, his large snout gingerly presses to her, providing as much assistance as possible. He would be useless as a horse. Fleetingly, he considers lifting her with a paw, but shies from the potential of scraping her with a sharpened talon. But the gentleness that he touches her is met with a soft expression of his eyes. ”You’re alive,” he says, the words truly audible and understandable for the first time.
castile