04-18-2019, 03:23 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
Heartfire, as eloquently as she can, navigates their conversation with a precision that Castile admires. With mismatched eyes boring into her, he listens to the accusation of Loess’ previous reputation. A mild shrug ripples through his shoulders and an amused grin wrinkles the edges of his mouth. Each land has its own crusades, as she says, but as the crown is passed along through the generations so is the ambition.
Perhaps, it is wise of Heartfire to be wary. A scrutinizing stare meets Castile, weighing him, preparing for his answer. As much as he wants to be diplomatic and appease everyone, it simply isn’t his nature. To roll over under her stern disdain and uncertainty would be a form of cowardice. Unacceptable.
Castile’s chin wrinkles and his gaze flickers to the distant horizon as though in thought, but his mind has already wrapped around her words and extracted every possible meaning and motive. His responses, blunt as her question, are reminiscent of his mother's tone and approach that Heartfire would readily recognize. ”Did Loess’ previous ‘crusades’ affect you or Nerine?” His head inclines curiously when he looks at her again, a single brow raised beneath his unruly forelock. In his personal history, he cannot recollect tension between the two kingdoms, but he can certainly be mistaken. However, Castile begins treading down a cautious path as he takes into consideration the political ties currently held.
Naturally, there is Sylva and the Pampas beneath his protection, bound by the convenience of their location. Nerine? Although it continues to hold a sliver of his heart, there is no binding tie.
”I apologize, aunty,” again he smiles, ”but unless you’re here to offer some sort of alliance, I’m afraid I cannot – and will not – indulge my plans for Loess.” He inches toward her, but barely, his eyes bright with amusement and mischief (there still lies a playful boy within him, underneath the scales and fire). ”That’s classified information.”
Perhaps, it is wise of Heartfire to be wary. A scrutinizing stare meets Castile, weighing him, preparing for his answer. As much as he wants to be diplomatic and appease everyone, it simply isn’t his nature. To roll over under her stern disdain and uncertainty would be a form of cowardice. Unacceptable.
Castile’s chin wrinkles and his gaze flickers to the distant horizon as though in thought, but his mind has already wrapped around her words and extracted every possible meaning and motive. His responses, blunt as her question, are reminiscent of his mother's tone and approach that Heartfire would readily recognize. ”Did Loess’ previous ‘crusades’ affect you or Nerine?” His head inclines curiously when he looks at her again, a single brow raised beneath his unruly forelock. In his personal history, he cannot recollect tension between the two kingdoms, but he can certainly be mistaken. However, Castile begins treading down a cautious path as he takes into consideration the political ties currently held.
Naturally, there is Sylva and the Pampas beneath his protection, bound by the convenience of their location. Nerine? Although it continues to hold a sliver of his heart, there is no binding tie.
”I apologize, aunty,” again he smiles, ”but unless you’re here to offer some sort of alliance, I’m afraid I cannot – and will not – indulge my plans for Loess.” He inches toward her, but barely, his eyes bright with amusement and mischief (there still lies a playful boy within him, underneath the scales and fire). ”That’s classified information.”
castile
@[Heartfire]