02-22-2018, 02:24 PM
When he looks at Nerine, he sees nostalgia. He sees his childhood playing over again.
There were foals playing and Castile was too afraid to use his wings. They frolicked in the waves and bounded up the rocky paths. Mother watched from a distance, typically from the Cliffside, and father tucked himself into the ominous caves. Laughter poured in abundance. He was a prince. He was a son, adored, and then a brother.
Nerine cradles his life and his heart since he was a newborn. The salty air prickled his lungs at first, but nowadays he savors it as his eyelids lazily droop shut. The memories swell his heart. Instinctively, he watches the mouth of father’s cave, but no life seems to stir within.
For a few long minutes, Castile is unable to tear his eyes away from the cavernous mouth, willing his family to appear, but the only life is a salty gale that tousles his locks. It brings with it an unfamiliar scent. He almost ignores it, presuming it old and irrelevant.
(No, it’s fresh and so very alive)
The creature inside him stirs to life and turns his mismatched eyes toward the looming mare. A creature in Castile’s soul, rattling its cage, suppresses the solemnity. It’s replaced by an ignited curiosity that lights his gaze on fire. Hello, she says, and he hesitates to respond as he quickly looks her over before leveling on her face. There are stories in her eyes, unspoken truths. ”Hi,” he finally says with a punctuating silence that lasts a few heartbeats until he admits himself to her. ”I was seeing if my parents were still here… If anyone was still here…” It had appeared so abandoned from the sky, a forgotten peninsula on the edge of Beqanna.
But she, this solitary mare, proves he was wrong.
”I’m Castile… My parents were – are – Nayl and Lior.”
There were foals playing and Castile was too afraid to use his wings. They frolicked in the waves and bounded up the rocky paths. Mother watched from a distance, typically from the Cliffside, and father tucked himself into the ominous caves. Laughter poured in abundance. He was a prince. He was a son, adored, and then a brother.
Nerine cradles his life and his heart since he was a newborn. The salty air prickled his lungs at first, but nowadays he savors it as his eyelids lazily droop shut. The memories swell his heart. Instinctively, he watches the mouth of father’s cave, but no life seems to stir within.
For a few long minutes, Castile is unable to tear his eyes away from the cavernous mouth, willing his family to appear, but the only life is a salty gale that tousles his locks. It brings with it an unfamiliar scent. He almost ignores it, presuming it old and irrelevant.
(No, it’s fresh and so very alive)
The creature inside him stirs to life and turns his mismatched eyes toward the looming mare. A creature in Castile’s soul, rattling its cage, suppresses the solemnity. It’s replaced by an ignited curiosity that lights his gaze on fire. Hello, she says, and he hesitates to respond as he quickly looks her over before leveling on her face. There are stories in her eyes, unspoken truths. ”Hi,” he finally says with a punctuating silence that lasts a few heartbeats until he admits himself to her. ”I was seeing if my parents were still here… If anyone was still here…” It had appeared so abandoned from the sky, a forgotten peninsula on the edge of Beqanna.
But she, this solitary mare, proves he was wrong.
”I’m Castile… My parents were – are – Nayl and Lior.”
Sorry for the wait!