08-28-2019, 03:36 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
It’s so easy to fall into the hands of impulse and lust. The satisfaction bleeds through the soul but then it recedes suddenly when the repercussions surface.
Castile is well aware of the affects, and so he could not be entirely angry at his son for what he had done. They are victims of temptation. Unfortunately, the temptress for his son was the enemy. It placed their family in a precarious situation, as Castile wondered whether she would utilize the children’s blood against everyone. Would she force everyone – including Castile – to his knees by threatening the safety of her own foals? He didn’t know, didn’t want to know. For months, the draconic king waited for his doorstep to be invaded, but nothing happened.
Nothing ever happened.
No one acted out against him.
Silence.
Even Velk faded with the season, but he returns now with a confident air that instills inner pride inside Castile. From afar, he watches his son arrive with a smirk adorning his handsome face. Admittedly, he sees a lot of Solace in the boy (forever his boy, no matter what age) and his heart admittedly leaps every time. Although fate pulled them apart, Castile will always treasure Solace in the deep confines of his heart. How could he not when she mothered his very first children?
Meeting his son midway, he presses a rough nudge to his withers followed by a playful nip. ”Hello, firstborn,” he humors with a broad grin while settling in front of Velk and looking him over. Memories flash lightning-quick across his thoughts, accompanied by an image of a young Velk – a gangly colt comfortably standing next to his dutiful mother. ”How have you been?” His tone is casual, adopting the role as father instead of King, an equal instead of a superior. Sweeping his tail across his hocks, Castile attempts to drink the scents mingling with his son, but seemingly not much has changed. Nonetheless, he asks, ”What have you been up to?” Certainly not coddling Mary, he notes quietly.
Castile is well aware of the affects, and so he could not be entirely angry at his son for what he had done. They are victims of temptation. Unfortunately, the temptress for his son was the enemy. It placed their family in a precarious situation, as Castile wondered whether she would utilize the children’s blood against everyone. Would she force everyone – including Castile – to his knees by threatening the safety of her own foals? He didn’t know, didn’t want to know. For months, the draconic king waited for his doorstep to be invaded, but nothing happened.
Nothing ever happened.
No one acted out against him.
Silence.
Even Velk faded with the season, but he returns now with a confident air that instills inner pride inside Castile. From afar, he watches his son arrive with a smirk adorning his handsome face. Admittedly, he sees a lot of Solace in the boy (forever his boy, no matter what age) and his heart admittedly leaps every time. Although fate pulled them apart, Castile will always treasure Solace in the deep confines of his heart. How could he not when she mothered his very first children?
Meeting his son midway, he presses a rough nudge to his withers followed by a playful nip. ”Hello, firstborn,” he humors with a broad grin while settling in front of Velk and looking him over. Memories flash lightning-quick across his thoughts, accompanied by an image of a young Velk – a gangly colt comfortably standing next to his dutiful mother. ”How have you been?” His tone is casual, adopting the role as father instead of King, an equal instead of a superior. Sweeping his tail across his hocks, Castile attempts to drink the scents mingling with his son, but seemingly not much has changed. Nonetheless, he asks, ”What have you been up to?” Certainly not coddling Mary, he notes quietly.
castile
@[Velk]