12-19-2018, 09:47 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
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.
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