04-11-2020, 01:21 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’s heart swells as the familiar pride of his children laps at the edges of his thoughts like the rising tide. A smile blossoms across his wrinkled lips, his mismatched eyes softening in a way that is reserved solely for family. To see Alcinder like this, a developing yearling, and at eye level, spurs a greater affection in the dragon than he has portrayed in the past. It takes only seconds to see the features inherited from him and Oceane, and yet Castile cannot help to hold his son in his gaze for far longer, unable – unwilling – to look away.
Dad, Alcinder says, and the warmth of Castile’s fiery gut reaches his face, savoring the name as he always has.
But not long after the word falls, riddled with emotion, that Alcinder’s eyes nearly betray the sentimentality seeping into his every pore. It elicits another urge to pull his son close, but Castile hesitates with the following questions, weighing them deliberately even with his face still softened by the tender reunion. The magic courses in his veins; it’s there again, within his control, and offers a concise answer. ”Yes,” he finally says, a low murmur for only his son to hear. ”I can be like this; I have that power back,” much of the boy’s childhood was either in Pangea or with a draconic sire that he never saw the true face of. Now, his mother is held captive. ”I’m so sorry for your untraditional upbringing,” Castile’s sighing breath is solemn and sincere as his reflects on it. ”I hope she will return soon to Loess, to safety,” he doesn’t mention himself. The tides are changing.
He isn’t sure how much longer he will be welcome here, former King or not.
Castile reaches forward, tousling Alcinder’s forelock with his nose. ”We will make it up to you. There are still memories and adventures ahead to make up for lost time.” Beneath his forelock, Castile’s eyes brighten hopefully while his mind trails off to imagine what life may become.
Dad, Alcinder says, and the warmth of Castile’s fiery gut reaches his face, savoring the name as he always has.
But not long after the word falls, riddled with emotion, that Alcinder’s eyes nearly betray the sentimentality seeping into his every pore. It elicits another urge to pull his son close, but Castile hesitates with the following questions, weighing them deliberately even with his face still softened by the tender reunion. The magic courses in his veins; it’s there again, within his control, and offers a concise answer. ”Yes,” he finally says, a low murmur for only his son to hear. ”I can be like this; I have that power back,” much of the boy’s childhood was either in Pangea or with a draconic sire that he never saw the true face of. Now, his mother is held captive. ”I’m so sorry for your untraditional upbringing,” Castile’s sighing breath is solemn and sincere as his reflects on it. ”I hope she will return soon to Loess, to safety,” he doesn’t mention himself. The tides are changing.
He isn’t sure how much longer he will be welcome here, former King or not.
Castile reaches forward, tousling Alcinder’s forelock with his nose. ”We will make it up to you. There are still memories and adventures ahead to make up for lost time.” Beneath his forelock, Castile’s eyes brighten hopefully while his mind trails off to imagine what life may become.
castile
@[Alcinder]