04-07-2020, 01:27 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
There’s a silent agreement between them; they both failed as parents, but at least Sabra was present for longer. Despite her sanity slipping like sand through open fingers, she was still there. Both sets of twins lacked a father until they were yearlings. Velk and Valdis, Santana and Raul. That wasn’t what Castile planned, or ever wanted, and he has tried to make amends. Nothing has truly ever gone to his plan.
Sabra looks upon him as he looms toward a point of resignation.
Surely, he is broken inside; he is wounded, just as she thinks. It’s betrayed by the calmness in his demeanor and the haze of defeat coating his words and glossing his eyes. They once fought tooth and nail, bitterly defying each other on almost every matter. Their years together were turbulent, and yet, here they are, holding a civilized conversation with soft undertones. No anger, no show of dominance. If that doesn’t exhibit their personal changes, he’s not sure what else could.
A deep breath expels from his lungs as she agrees with him about the boys, but Castile says nothing more of the matter. His wings idly shuffle at his sides in his moments of reflection, wondering if this is the turning point in his life, if this is what he needed to fully tamper the beast. For nearly twenty years, he has fought himself. Is it now, with a faerie madness clouding him and a look into his past, that he realizes what his next steps should be? Is this the aha moment that he has needed?
The dragon lowers his head slowly as Sabra edges closer. A kiss presses to his rough cheek. Gratitude succeeds the sentiment, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised by it all. Discomfort nips at each of them, unfamiliar with the tenderness after such a long hiatus. ”Yeah,” is all he can awkwardly say as he rises slowly to his feet, gouging the soil underneath his talons. ”I guess I’ll see you there then?” He slowly blinks and inclines his head, determining whether she needs an escort or time alone.
Sabra looks upon him as he looms toward a point of resignation.
Surely, he is broken inside; he is wounded, just as she thinks. It’s betrayed by the calmness in his demeanor and the haze of defeat coating his words and glossing his eyes. They once fought tooth and nail, bitterly defying each other on almost every matter. Their years together were turbulent, and yet, here they are, holding a civilized conversation with soft undertones. No anger, no show of dominance. If that doesn’t exhibit their personal changes, he’s not sure what else could.
A deep breath expels from his lungs as she agrees with him about the boys, but Castile says nothing more of the matter. His wings idly shuffle at his sides in his moments of reflection, wondering if this is the turning point in his life, if this is what he needed to fully tamper the beast. For nearly twenty years, he has fought himself. Is it now, with a faerie madness clouding him and a look into his past, that he realizes what his next steps should be? Is this the aha moment that he has needed?
The dragon lowers his head slowly as Sabra edges closer. A kiss presses to his rough cheek. Gratitude succeeds the sentiment, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised by it all. Discomfort nips at each of them, unfamiliar with the tenderness after such a long hiatus. ”Yeah,” is all he can awkwardly say as he rises slowly to his feet, gouging the soil underneath his talons. ”I guess I’ll see you there then?” He slowly blinks and inclines his head, determining whether she needs an escort or time alone.
castile
@[Sabra]