02-17-2020, 09:44 AM
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
(An outsider is in our midst)
Our prisoner
(We must show him our… hospitality…)
The freshness of ice and tang of saltwater still clings to Jesper, still so new among the Loessians and so soon into his term. He moves gingerly across the rocky knolls, and Castile nearly tastes his hesitation. From afar, the draconic king watches, kneading the soil with his hooked talons. Jesper glances skyward, likely searching for more dragons soaring among the clouds. A low growl rolls through, peering up as well as though anticipating another dragon is trespassing. Alas, there are only the miles of blue sky and a sun at its afternoon peak.
By the time Castile casts his gaze back to the islander, Oceane has already arrived, injecting herself into the conversation even as her mind fumbles with understandable fear for their son. As a mother of his child – the primal instincts more heavily cloud his thoughts now – an increasing sense of possessiveness and territoriality overcomes him and lifts his body from the rocky canyon floor to approach them. They aren’t so far as to require an entire flight, but they are also not near enough for him to comfortably walk.
After a downward stretch, Castile launches himself into the air, his wings unfurling in a loud snap. Two beats of them, and his hind end is already underneath him, landing. More of a large hop, but well versed and smooth in its execution as he joins them with glittering eyes. Arrogance floods him, altering his color to a glittering sapphire, his spines gilded, and jagged stripes of gold along his body and wings as though kissed and adored by lightning. His scales brilliantly catch the sunlight, jewel-like as he glitters with every movement. ”Jesper,” he says, his breath hot with the fire churning in his gut, ”Long time no see.” The memory slowly fades, but it holds its final threads desperately in Castile’s retrogressing mind. ”Welcome,” but his hospitality isn’t as comforting as the heat of his body. Fortunately, his attention drifts from the obsidian male to Oceane, acknowledging her with a soft huff of air, but not touching her. He blinks, nods, but then returns to Jesper with quiet intent.
Our prisoner
(We must show him our… hospitality…)
The freshness of ice and tang of saltwater still clings to Jesper, still so new among the Loessians and so soon into his term. He moves gingerly across the rocky knolls, and Castile nearly tastes his hesitation. From afar, the draconic king watches, kneading the soil with his hooked talons. Jesper glances skyward, likely searching for more dragons soaring among the clouds. A low growl rolls through, peering up as well as though anticipating another dragon is trespassing. Alas, there are only the miles of blue sky and a sun at its afternoon peak.
By the time Castile casts his gaze back to the islander, Oceane has already arrived, injecting herself into the conversation even as her mind fumbles with understandable fear for their son. As a mother of his child – the primal instincts more heavily cloud his thoughts now – an increasing sense of possessiveness and territoriality overcomes him and lifts his body from the rocky canyon floor to approach them. They aren’t so far as to require an entire flight, but they are also not near enough for him to comfortably walk.
After a downward stretch, Castile launches himself into the air, his wings unfurling in a loud snap. Two beats of them, and his hind end is already underneath him, landing. More of a large hop, but well versed and smooth in its execution as he joins them with glittering eyes. Arrogance floods him, altering his color to a glittering sapphire, his spines gilded, and jagged stripes of gold along his body and wings as though kissed and adored by lightning. His scales brilliantly catch the sunlight, jewel-like as he glitters with every movement. ”Jesper,” he says, his breath hot with the fire churning in his gut, ”Long time no see.” The memory slowly fades, but it holds its final threads desperately in Castile’s retrogressing mind. ”Welcome,” but his hospitality isn’t as comforting as the heat of his body. Fortunately, his attention drifts from the obsidian male to Oceane, acknowledging her with a soft huff of air, but not touching her. He blinks, nods, but then returns to Jesper with quiet intent.
castile
@[Oceane] @[Jesper]