He can’t breathe without drinking her in, can’t stray his thoughts when he looks at her now. There’s an easiness to her, an allure, which he is ensnared in. Their conversation runs like water. She sees him for what he is now, not the monster that stirs within.
It doesn’t have to be aimless, she says, and he supposes that can be true. Once, he wandered to a dark place – to solitude – where he refused himself physical contact. Castile knew where he wanted – needed – to be, but he had to wander to find his prison.
And to find her.
The sunlight dapples along his coat as clouds pass overhead. Even as a cool breeze threads through the space between them, Castile remains warmed by an inner flame. He doesn’t shudder or squirm, his body statuesque in Nyxa’s presence. The feathers of his wings lift with the gale, but in whole they remain folded neatly along his sides, further insulation as the seasons play their yearly tricks.
Nyxa proposes an adventure to the Mountain, and it’s an offer that Castile cannot bring himself to refuse. His head turns in the direction of the ominous peak as it pierces low-lying clouds. A lopsided grin gives him a look of boyish excitement when he levels his attention on the seagirl, fascinated with her inclination for traveling and humor. ”Oh, my lady, it would truly be a pleasure,” and a lighthearted chuckle escapes him, brightening the shadows of his face. His right wing expands then, reaching briefly toward the sky before drifting slowly down to hover just above Nyxa’s back, still too – admittedly – to touch her. ”Nay, it would be an honor to escort you.” Her company creates something new in his identity – a tenderness to his soul – that he desperately latches onto while he can.
”One can never go wrong with a good adventure.”
It doesn’t have to be aimless, she says, and he supposes that can be true. Once, he wandered to a dark place – to solitude – where he refused himself physical contact. Castile knew where he wanted – needed – to be, but he had to wander to find his prison.
And to find her.
The sunlight dapples along his coat as clouds pass overhead. Even as a cool breeze threads through the space between them, Castile remains warmed by an inner flame. He doesn’t shudder or squirm, his body statuesque in Nyxa’s presence. The feathers of his wings lift with the gale, but in whole they remain folded neatly along his sides, further insulation as the seasons play their yearly tricks.
Nyxa proposes an adventure to the Mountain, and it’s an offer that Castile cannot bring himself to refuse. His head turns in the direction of the ominous peak as it pierces low-lying clouds. A lopsided grin gives him a look of boyish excitement when he levels his attention on the seagirl, fascinated with her inclination for traveling and humor. ”Oh, my lady, it would truly be a pleasure,” and a lighthearted chuckle escapes him, brightening the shadows of his face. His right wing expands then, reaching briefly toward the sky before drifting slowly down to hover just above Nyxa’s back, still too – admittedly – to touch her. ”Nay, it would be an honor to escort you.” Her company creates something new in his identity – a tenderness to his soul – that he desperately latches onto while he can.
”One can never go wrong with a good adventure.”
@[Nyxa]
I'm SO sorry for the wait. I KNEW I forgot someone. I suck.