The emptiness of Sylva is confirmed by the silence.
Patiently, Castile waits. His breaths are steady, his eyes piercing. There are birds in the branches above, squawking, while deer wander through the underbrush.
And still, no one comes.
There is no Mary or Sinner or even Valdis. They’ve all seemingly vacated with the dawning sun. Admittedly, his heart wrenches at the idea of his daughter eluding him, but he never allows the disappointment to furrow his brow. Among the knot of deciduous trees, Castile remains proud despite the exhaustion rattling his bones. Seconds quickly melt into minutes until someone steps from the shadows. His mismatched eyes flash sternly in preparation, but everything in him sulks when he sees Sochi. His bravado teeters and the proud stance crumbles into something far more tender and approachable.
A single step inches him closer to her direction, but he takes pause as sunlight dapples her skin and highlights her swollen belly.
Adrenaline and testosterone leak like poison through his veins, and his eyes instantaneously harden.
It’s like Sabra all over again. The enemies he has gained take pride in subduing his women like they are game pieces, utilizing them as tools to carve away his sanity and comfort.
It isn’t until he is lightheaded that Castile realizes he was holding his breath. His thoughts swim as he revisits his past in order to learn. He cannot – will not – rip out his heart again or destroy something that has brought him nothing but happiness.
A low rumble crawls from his throat as he draws close. Scales unconsciously ripple across his hide, a kaleidoscope of dancing colors, until they are within reach of one another. There is no one else here, he confirms with a quick glance prior to leveling his gaze onto her. For a long moment, Castile doesn’t move. Every muscle freezes underneath his skin except for his breathing. Sinner’s pungent odor cloaks her like a blanket. It stabs into his nostrils like a thousand daggers, but still he does not retract from her.
And just when it seems like their reunion will be as silent as the forest, Castile quietly murmurs into her neck. ”I’m sorry,” sorry that he failed her, sorry that he couldn’t return her home soon enough, sorry that she was a victim of warfare. It makes sense now why mother was so aloof for so long and why she harbored her children in the cave systems where no one could reach them. It was to protect her own heart and to prevent her enemies from possessing leverage. But Castile isn’t as cold as mother. Since he was a colt, he only ever wanted to love and be loved. He wanted a family, happiness, and a sense of accomplishment. Somehow, in just a few short years, Sochi has given him all of that.
A warm breath sighs from his lungs as he pulls her into an embrace, needing her body against his, nearly forgetting what transpired here only hours prior. He doesn't want to let her go - not now, not ever.
@[sochi]
Patiently, Castile waits. His breaths are steady, his eyes piercing. There are birds in the branches above, squawking, while deer wander through the underbrush.
And still, no one comes.
There is no Mary or Sinner or even Valdis. They’ve all seemingly vacated with the dawning sun. Admittedly, his heart wrenches at the idea of his daughter eluding him, but he never allows the disappointment to furrow his brow. Among the knot of deciduous trees, Castile remains proud despite the exhaustion rattling his bones. Seconds quickly melt into minutes until someone steps from the shadows. His mismatched eyes flash sternly in preparation, but everything in him sulks when he sees Sochi. His bravado teeters and the proud stance crumbles into something far more tender and approachable.
A single step inches him closer to her direction, but he takes pause as sunlight dapples her skin and highlights her swollen belly.
Adrenaline and testosterone leak like poison through his veins, and his eyes instantaneously harden.
It’s like Sabra all over again. The enemies he has gained take pride in subduing his women like they are game pieces, utilizing them as tools to carve away his sanity and comfort.
It isn’t until he is lightheaded that Castile realizes he was holding his breath. His thoughts swim as he revisits his past in order to learn. He cannot – will not – rip out his heart again or destroy something that has brought him nothing but happiness.
A low rumble crawls from his throat as he draws close. Scales unconsciously ripple across his hide, a kaleidoscope of dancing colors, until they are within reach of one another. There is no one else here, he confirms with a quick glance prior to leveling his gaze onto her. For a long moment, Castile doesn’t move. Every muscle freezes underneath his skin except for his breathing. Sinner’s pungent odor cloaks her like a blanket. It stabs into his nostrils like a thousand daggers, but still he does not retract from her.
And just when it seems like their reunion will be as silent as the forest, Castile quietly murmurs into her neck. ”I’m sorry,” sorry that he failed her, sorry that he couldn’t return her home soon enough, sorry that she was a victim of warfare. It makes sense now why mother was so aloof for so long and why she harbored her children in the cave systems where no one could reach them. It was to protect her own heart and to prevent her enemies from possessing leverage. But Castile isn’t as cold as mother. Since he was a colt, he only ever wanted to love and be loved. He wanted a family, happiness, and a sense of accomplishment. Somehow, in just a few short years, Sochi has given him all of that.
A warm breath sighs from his lungs as he pulls her into an embrace, needing her body against his, nearly forgetting what transpired here only hours prior. He doesn't want to let her go - not now, not ever.
@[sochi]