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anyone; - Castile - 09-29-2017 Life – everything – changed from how he knew it to be.
There had been a fire. Mother. Djinni. Amet. The inferno roared and somehow Castile matched its ferocity with his own. Then there was a lull and a rebirth. There was hope, and then there were nothing but trees. The hillside faded into towering beech and walnut trees. There, he saw Ivar then again Amet. They were all together, talking, laughing, but then Castile remembered nothing more. Nothing but darkness. Too afraid to ask about the elapsed time, Castile paid a visit to Hyaline. He reflects briefly of Ciri and a smile touches his lips. She was the honeysuckle in a thorn patch, but he assures himself that it is only because he hardly interacts with females. Alas, he became aware of tensions which influenced his decision to come here against his better judgment. The field is supposed to be a beacon of hope and new beginnings, but Castile finds himself hesitant to land. He spirals in the sky high above, contemplating his decision and weighing the opportunity against the chances of poor fate. Perhaps no one will see the familial resemblance he has with Nayl and so her – their – enemies will pass by him without regard. If they do recognize him, it could mean turmoil, but he resigns to consider how there is chance in everything. With a heavy breath of resolution, Castile descends and heavily lands in the grassy field. His mismatched eyes flicker in curiosity as flower buds unravel and open. His wings, transitioned from feathers to thin, membranous skin, tuck neatly to his sides. Here, he stands, and here, he waits. RE: anyone; - Ivar - 10-01-2017
RE: anyone; - Castile - 10-02-2017 Castile has always tried to be a good son and to follow directions. Mother demanded he live in Hyaline, so he did, but then Ivar stole him and his last memory is of the beech trees of Sylva towering around him.
So, he failed her. He failed all of them. Hyaline called to him, but not in the way that a home does. It wanted to remind him of what he did – what he failed to do – and it scorned him through conversations reliving that evening. The world laughed at Castile when it brought him a beautiful girl only to have Amet touch her possessively in front of him. He had blinked slowly while determining a route to take. Of course, it had been amiable. The scaled king had always been kind, but there was something churning in Castile’s gut that led him to the Field because he no longer belonged in Neverland where everyone stayed young. To see Ivar here, however, was an unexpected surprise. He flinches initially, not assuming to have company so soon, but he can’t suppress the smile that stretches across his lips. ”Long lost friend,” he replies in a voice far huskier than when they last met as boys. ”You may already be winning,” he says with a lighthearted chuckle despite how the truth thickens in his throat, ”I actually don’t have a home.” Perhaps, he could have stayed in Hyaline, but it didn’t seem right. And Nerine? Mother would never want her son as a pet in a matriarchal society. And so he painfully admits his life of solitude with a rippling shrug of his shoulders, accepting of his fate. ”Tell me more about Loess,” because maybe, just maybe, something can look up for him. RE: anyone; - Ivar - 10-07-2017
RE: anyone; - Castile - 10-15-2017 ”Well, look at you, hot shot,” he jests with a bump of his muzzle against Ivar’s shoulders, ”oh, and those muscles.” It’s the first time he has been able to joke and to be so lighthearted. It brings a rush of nostalgic memories. He remembers their first meeting in Nerine, their adventures, their laughs. It had all been so innocent then. They didn’t have responsibilities, only doting mothers watching their every move (almost).
Suddenly, there is a great part of Castile that wants to relive all of that. ”Loess,” he repeats thoughtfully, casting his eyes toward the direction of rolling hills and green meadows. ”Hopefully less trees than Sylva,” he adds with a shrug and smile, ”Your mom’s home was very confining for someone with wings.” There were few places that he could take flight and land, hindering his practice to soar the sapphire skies. Since he hasn’t quite mastered shifting the least he could do was fine tune his flight skills. Once, he remembers, he had been too afraid to even attempt it. The heights worried him. He was concerned his wings would fail him, but they haven’t yet. In fact, they are stronger than they have ever been and have a massive reach that he is silently proud of. ”I will go with you,” he finally decides with a nod of his head after mulling over the opportunity. Briefly, he considers Ciri and Amet and how closely mingled their scents had been. It struck an odd chord in him, but one of which he knows he should ignore and move away from. ”Show me Loess,” and with a preparing roll of his shoulders, Castile awaits to follow his childhood friend. |