04-30-2020, 01:34 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
A husky bout of laughter rolls like smoke from his mouth, light as air as it drifts into the space between them. ”You know me so well,” he jests in return. There are dragons sprouting more often now – once, he and father were the only ones - but he remains the oldest and most drawn to fire and heat. Clarissa is angelic, Leilan frosted.
When he curled his body against the walls of the volcano, he had no other agenda in Tephra. It was a brief lapse of control in himself as the draconic lust clouded his thoughts. Trespassing, he huddled against the rocky ledges and drank in the heat bubbling from the magma inside. No one was hurt, and he left quietly when his consciousness returned to his grip.
A residual smile warms his voice as he looks at Mako. ”Such is the nature of this beast,” it’s a fact he has long since accepted, and once struggled with. If only they all knew of the inner wars that have screamed and rattled through him. If only they knew the obstacles he has faced to understand and take control of himself. Nothing has been easy, and he isn’t perfect; so many mistakes have been made and so many lessons learned. Adaptation, he muses, is a developing skill of his. Listening is another, and Mako makes light of her grandfather’s recent revelation. Castile first watches the dove abandon her perch on his back to return to his granddaughter, still fascinated by the connection built between the pair, before rolling his shoulders in a surprised and accepting shrug. ”I know, right? I have my few winning qualities, believe it or not,” listening wasn’t one of them, but it’s a project he is building on. Reaching forward, he tousles her forelock playfully.
But there is a receding tone in Mako’s voice, a solemnity that chisels away Castile’s paternal grin. Everything in him slumps, his heart quivering. He doesn’t realize he is holding his breath until there’s an ache in his lungs. A cloud of black smoke is expelled from his nostrils while he purses his lips to choke back the emotion that threatens to surface. If there is one thing in life that he wants known, it’s how much he genuinely cares for his family – children, grandchildren, his parents and siblings.
Sidling closer, Castile presses his side against Mako’s and follows her somber gaze. ”I’m sure she tries speaking to you whenever she can,” through the whispering breeze or through the songs of nature. ”You remind me of her,” he swallows as he takes a moment to trace the colors of her coat and observe the glistening of her frost, ”and I know how proud she would be of you. She would have loved you so much,” there’s a subtle shake in his breath when he sighs as Valdis races across his thoughts. ”I’m so sorry she isn’t here to tell you that or to hold you,” he has tried to keep Mako close, to love her, but nothing can ever amount to the love and nurturing of a mother.
When he curled his body against the walls of the volcano, he had no other agenda in Tephra. It was a brief lapse of control in himself as the draconic lust clouded his thoughts. Trespassing, he huddled against the rocky ledges and drank in the heat bubbling from the magma inside. No one was hurt, and he left quietly when his consciousness returned to his grip.
A residual smile warms his voice as he looks at Mako. ”Such is the nature of this beast,” it’s a fact he has long since accepted, and once struggled with. If only they all knew of the inner wars that have screamed and rattled through him. If only they knew the obstacles he has faced to understand and take control of himself. Nothing has been easy, and he isn’t perfect; so many mistakes have been made and so many lessons learned. Adaptation, he muses, is a developing skill of his. Listening is another, and Mako makes light of her grandfather’s recent revelation. Castile first watches the dove abandon her perch on his back to return to his granddaughter, still fascinated by the connection built between the pair, before rolling his shoulders in a surprised and accepting shrug. ”I know, right? I have my few winning qualities, believe it or not,” listening wasn’t one of them, but it’s a project he is building on. Reaching forward, he tousles her forelock playfully.
But there is a receding tone in Mako’s voice, a solemnity that chisels away Castile’s paternal grin. Everything in him slumps, his heart quivering. He doesn’t realize he is holding his breath until there’s an ache in his lungs. A cloud of black smoke is expelled from his nostrils while he purses his lips to choke back the emotion that threatens to surface. If there is one thing in life that he wants known, it’s how much he genuinely cares for his family – children, grandchildren, his parents and siblings.
Sidling closer, Castile presses his side against Mako’s and follows her somber gaze. ”I’m sure she tries speaking to you whenever she can,” through the whispering breeze or through the songs of nature. ”You remind me of her,” he swallows as he takes a moment to trace the colors of her coat and observe the glistening of her frost, ”and I know how proud she would be of you. She would have loved you so much,” there’s a subtle shake in his breath when he sighs as Valdis races across his thoughts. ”I’m so sorry she isn’t here to tell you that or to hold you,” he has tried to keep Mako close, to love her, but nothing can ever amount to the love and nurturing of a mother.
castile
@[mako]