03-13-2018, 02:48 PM
With winter still blowing its frigid gusts against his back, Castile roams placidly across Loess. An inner warmth branches through him, heating his skin comfortably despite the freezing temperatures. Soon, he contemplates, spring will arise once more and melt the thin layer of snow that tracks his every step. Flowers will bloom across Beqanna and children will make their entrances into the world.
A beautiful season, really, but it hardly fazes Loess with its scraggly vegetation and ferns. It isn’t a tropical paradise here as perhaps Ischia (he has never before seen the island, but has heard about it and smelled the saltiness of its beaches), but it will at least be warmer.
A plume of black smoke coils from Castile’s nostrils rather unexpectedly. The heat of fire burns in the pit of his stomach, threatening to rise until he forces it back down with a heavy swallow. The ability still strikes him as odd and so very new. His throat has a rawness from the unfamiliarity of it, but it at least keeps him warm during the winter months when most others shiver from the cold.
Still moving forward, Castile casually searches for young Lepis, wanting to finally speak with her away from Heda and the watchful eyes of their herd. It would be embarrassing to never have a conversation with his friend’s daughter… a sort of niece, perhaps. It isn’t urgent which is evident in the nonchalance of his movement until their paths finally cross. ”Lepis,” his voice is husky, his breath clouding briefly, ”How are you? Hopefully not getting into too much trouble today?” A low chuckle slips from him as he reaches down to bump her poll playfully.
A beautiful season, really, but it hardly fazes Loess with its scraggly vegetation and ferns. It isn’t a tropical paradise here as perhaps Ischia (he has never before seen the island, but has heard about it and smelled the saltiness of its beaches), but it will at least be warmer.
A plume of black smoke coils from Castile’s nostrils rather unexpectedly. The heat of fire burns in the pit of his stomach, threatening to rise until he forces it back down with a heavy swallow. The ability still strikes him as odd and so very new. His throat has a rawness from the unfamiliarity of it, but it at least keeps him warm during the winter months when most others shiver from the cold.
Still moving forward, Castile casually searches for young Lepis, wanting to finally speak with her away from Heda and the watchful eyes of their herd. It would be embarrassing to never have a conversation with his friend’s daughter… a sort of niece, perhaps. It isn’t urgent which is evident in the nonchalance of his movement until their paths finally cross. ”Lepis,” his voice is husky, his breath clouding briefly, ”How are you? Hopefully not getting into too much trouble today?” A low chuckle slips from him as he reaches down to bump her poll playfully.