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Gilt; - Castile - 12-14-2018 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
Castile hasn’t forgotten about the boy, not even in the slightest. Gilt has frequented his mind since arriving as a sodden heap in Icicle Isle. Starlin is obviously gone, a truth that Castile struggles to accept. The manner of her demise (or abandonment) escapes him, but doesn’t halt him in his efforts to nurture and raise the colt. Initially, he asked Breckin to assist by providing milk, but upon more careful observation, a realization surfaced. The boy’s anatomy wouldn’t allow for nursing. He is much like his father – a predator, a monster. With further consideration, Castile faced the obstacle in the only way he can think of. His body is shifted, displaying his reptilian assets as he soars quietly with a deer corpse clutched loosely in his claws. Bloody rivulets winding from its mouth and wounds have since dried and caked onto its coarse hair. The scent no longer piques his interest; the incessant need to devour it has subsided as his mind trains itself on the task at hand. Finding the boy takes little time with his vision sharply roving across the landscape underneath. A spiral of black smoke erupts from Castile’s nostrils as he descends with a single, fluid motion. His grasp on the corpse tightens with the shift of his weight as the frosted ground rises to meet him with a heavy thud. ”Gilt, my boy,” his voice rumbles low in the chasm of his throat, nearly vibrating the ground underfoot. As an afterthought upon seeing his son, Castile carelessly drops the maimed deer, his mismatched gaze settling adoringly on the colt. His head snakes forward, his reptilian muzzle brushing gingerly against his son before his body shifts into that of a horse, reverting to what he truly is. A display of affection takes precedence before stepping back to more openly reveal the carcass. Castile’s eyes dance back and forth briefly before finally settling on Gilt. ”I imagine sharp teeth would match the head you have,” his child is notable, unforgettable, ”so I don’t think Breckin would appreciate nursing you.” A shudder races along his back at the thought. ”So, I brought you some food.” He’s proud to have hunted for his kin, to utilize his own power for some amount of good. A jagged smile softens the sharp edges of Castile’s face until he inches closer, lowering his head to be level with Gilt. ”You have teeth, right?” His lips curl to convey his meaning, exposing his canines still faintly stained by blood and previous kills. ”Or do I have to.. uhh… chew it up for you?” Despite how his stomach churns at the idea, Castile remains steadily composed, knowing well he will do all that is necessary to nurture his son. castile RE: Gilt; - Gilt - 12-16-2018 you should see me in a crown; your silence is my favorite sound
They were near enough to watch in the distance, this clan of horses that he had been assigned to. He found his spotted woman to be desirable; she was warm and affectionate and that pleased him. The others were attractive too in the same way that he adored bones picked clean after a kill, the blood and bits of flesh all gnawed off and pristine white. Not that he had had any yet, but he could imagine he'd like them. Gilt RE: Gilt; - Castile - 12-19-2018 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
Gilt. The name reverberates through Castile, clanging a bell of pride deep in his gut. His mismatched eyes peer down at the boy and reflect the happiness blossoming through him. Although Starlin will not play a role in their son’s upbringing, Castile can at least make up the gap as best he can. Fortunately, and to his relief, he sees the small, sharp teeth poking through the colt’s gums. ”Very tough,” he croons softly with a smile pulling the corners of his mouth. ”Dragonborne, that is for sure,” the term was bestowed upon him as a newborn. Has it already been a decade since he inhaled his first lungful of air and heard his name first spoken on mother’s lips? Has it been so long since father proudly looked at his boy and mirrored the joy at having an heir and legacy with Nayl? This scene, however without a maternal figure, elicits a déjà vu that pulls against Castile’s heart as he quietly observes his son. A few heartbeats have passed – all while entranced by the sight of the boy – that he nearly forgets the task at hand. With an abrupt shake of his head, Castile says, ”Go ahead and eat, Gilt,” but he is lowering his head to the carcass as his voice rumbles the air between them. Gingerly, he grabs a leg and rips it from the body before doing it to another limb, providing options for his son. With another moment of consideration, Castile reaches a talon forward, pressing it to the underbelly of the deer then dragging it down to unveil the innards as they spill out from their confines. Content, he smiles. He had failed with his other children during their monumental months of childhood, and so he quietly vows not to let Gilt down, too. ”You will be big and strong, my son, and I will keep you safe.” He will raise him alone, a daunting task, but his heart thuds with eagerness. With less grace, Castile shifts his body into that of a horse while maintaining his jagged smile, watching over Gilt as he eats his first deer. castile RE: Gilt; - Gilt - 12-23-2018 you should see me in a crown; your silence is my favorite sound
"Very tough," his father observed with pride and Gilt's eyes glittered, flicking back to Dad's face with a toothy grin. "Dragonborne, that is for sure." He loved that word, the way it slid from his father's lips like a powerful gift, almost like a second name. Dragonborne. Gilt. These words belonged to him. Gilt RE: Gilt; - Castile - 01-02-2019 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
Gilt is posed as the essence of innocence that Castile has long since forgotten existed. His metallic eyes dance brightly across the boy’s face, then down along his body to note how much of Starlin lives on. It’s difficult to see once the colt buries his face into the meat and relies on his knees to hold the carcass in place as it’s shredded. A smile, beaming and proud in nature, stretches widely across Castile’s face. The sincerity has been a rare visual in his life as of late. Joy has escaped him for months as he succumbed to life’s stressors and the aches of his blackening heart. Castile has thought himself incapable of love, and yet when he looks down at his son, there it is – thrumming in his chest. The breath he draws in is slow, thoughtful. When he blinks, he sees Starlin flash across the back of his eyelids. Struggling to fathom her demise, Castile forces her memory to the far crevices of his mind. She will be a part of him, always, and in their young boy who will thrive. ”Your mother loved you very much,” he doesn’t know the validity of the statement as it falls unbidden from his lips. Starlin had been passionate, however, and kind, making even Castile believe it. Underneath the midday sun, Castile considers the boy as he nestles to his side, full from the deer carcass. No words need to be spoken; it’s obvious how filling and enjoyable it had been. Switching his focus and unreeling his thoughts, he proposes an idea. ”Gilt, how would you like an adventure?” His own heart patters excitedly in his chest even as his son settles down. ”I want to take you to another island so we can meet others. You will have playmates.” That is something he cherished in his childhood, having friends to romp with alongside the waves. It’s the least he can offer Gilt, his first of many memories. Stepping back, Castile contorts his body and shifts fluidly back into that of an immense dragon, prepared to lift himself and Gilt and soar across the sea to new adventures. castile @[Gilt] and now they can merrily make their way to the Island Resort to PARTAYYY |