10-26-2017, 12:10 PM
Castile takes pride in the way they melt back into one another, their sides heaving and their skin sleek with sweat. They are an image of perfection – tobianos mirroring their parents – as they wander further into the grab of Loess. A subtle tilt of his head allows Castile to glance at his sister and smile, watching as she drinks in the new scenery and comments on its individual allure. He is fascinated by the way her pewter eyes brighten and how energy electrifies her steps as she keeps pace with him. The love for his sibling overpowers anything else in his world. It’s her that he will always protect and shield; it’s her that he will always return to.
Walking has turned into a mindless act after their minutes of travel. He almost doesn’t recognize he’s still moving until there is a coolness on his side left by Isobell’s halt. Turning, he first searches her face before following her gaze to the deer nibbling on a patch of grass. The tranquility of the scene lulls him and he could have settled into a daze if it were not for the playful tug on his mane. A light-hearted chortle rumbles through his core before responding to her gesture by slapping her shoulder gently with his wing. ”Definitely,” when he swallows he realizes how dry his mouth actually is from having run. With a pivot, he changes direction and approaches the babbling tide of the coursing river. Dehydration takes priority, and so he drinks his fill before sweeping a sidelong glance to Isobell. There is a looming temptation to splash her, and it reflects on his wry smile, but he decides to placidly slip into the water one step at a time.
An autumnal chill catches his breath at first, but there is an eternal heat that brews inside him, insulating him enough as to not tremble in the river’s shallow depths. He goes only so far as to let the water glide past his shoulder and elbow, not wanting to entirely submerge himself. With meticulous steps on the rocky riverbed, Castile faces Isobell. ”What’s next on the agenda for you, Issy?” Saying her childhood name – one that only he has used save for perhaps the parents – elicits a storm of memories that brings a smile to his face. ”And how is mother and Nerine? Is someone standing out that might get the throne or will you be her heir? I imagine she won’t hold the throne much longer.” She has thus far outlasted all monarchs, cementing her name in Beqanna’s history as the iron-fisted Queen. It’s only a matter of time until she resigns to take a slower-paced lifestyle.
Walking has turned into a mindless act after their minutes of travel. He almost doesn’t recognize he’s still moving until there is a coolness on his side left by Isobell’s halt. Turning, he first searches her face before following her gaze to the deer nibbling on a patch of grass. The tranquility of the scene lulls him and he could have settled into a daze if it were not for the playful tug on his mane. A light-hearted chortle rumbles through his core before responding to her gesture by slapping her shoulder gently with his wing. ”Definitely,” when he swallows he realizes how dry his mouth actually is from having run. With a pivot, he changes direction and approaches the babbling tide of the coursing river. Dehydration takes priority, and so he drinks his fill before sweeping a sidelong glance to Isobell. There is a looming temptation to splash her, and it reflects on his wry smile, but he decides to placidly slip into the water one step at a time.
An autumnal chill catches his breath at first, but there is an eternal heat that brews inside him, insulating him enough as to not tremble in the river’s shallow depths. He goes only so far as to let the water glide past his shoulder and elbow, not wanting to entirely submerge himself. With meticulous steps on the rocky riverbed, Castile faces Isobell. ”What’s next on the agenda for you, Issy?” Saying her childhood name – one that only he has used save for perhaps the parents – elicits a storm of memories that brings a smile to his face. ”And how is mother and Nerine? Is someone standing out that might get the throne or will you be her heir? I imagine she won’t hold the throne much longer.” She has thus far outlasted all monarchs, cementing her name in Beqanna’s history as the iron-fisted Queen. It’s only a matter of time until she resigns to take a slower-paced lifestyle.