03-23-2018, 01:20 PM
Their individual scents are nearly masked by the potency of acrid smoke. It drifts along the spring breeze and grips desperately to the soft lining of Castile’s nostrils.
(Smoke)
(Fire)
The innate urge to find the source is overwhelming and lifts him from where he idly rested. Scales ripple down the length of his body as a deep want of the volcano surfaces, briefly clouding Castile’s better judgment. Every time he draws in a breath, he can only taste the residual aroma of Tephra. It’s the electricity to fuel his heart and his muscles as he takes to the sky.
What had once been blanketed by a layer of snow has since sprung into jaded patches of grass. Castile spares a glance to the ground below, but the Tephran’s are swarming through his mind and distract him from savoring the scenery below.
(Volcano)
It’s a distant idea as he soars silently above. Tephra is just past the sea with its titanic volcano tearing through the low-lying clouds. He could see it, touch it, smell it. Why does he feel like it’s a part of him?
Snorting, he makes a gradual descent, alighting a short distance from the small group. His mismatched eyes dance across the faces, fascinated by their arrival and comfort with Imperial. Setting aside all skepticism, he prowls toward them while his wings gingerly nestle against his sides. ”I’m Castile,” he doesn’t add who he is, what title he holds. The sense of responsibility is still so new and unfamiliar. Having a tag behind his name would taste too foreign on the edge of his tongue. ”I will join you, and Lepis hopefully soon.”
(Smoke)
(Fire)
The innate urge to find the source is overwhelming and lifts him from where he idly rested. Scales ripple down the length of his body as a deep want of the volcano surfaces, briefly clouding Castile’s better judgment. Every time he draws in a breath, he can only taste the residual aroma of Tephra. It’s the electricity to fuel his heart and his muscles as he takes to the sky.
What had once been blanketed by a layer of snow has since sprung into jaded patches of grass. Castile spares a glance to the ground below, but the Tephran’s are swarming through his mind and distract him from savoring the scenery below.
(Volcano)
It’s a distant idea as he soars silently above. Tephra is just past the sea with its titanic volcano tearing through the low-lying clouds. He could see it, touch it, smell it. Why does he feel like it’s a part of him?
Snorting, he makes a gradual descent, alighting a short distance from the small group. His mismatched eyes dance across the faces, fascinated by their arrival and comfort with Imperial. Setting aside all skepticism, he prowls toward them while his wings gingerly nestle against his sides. ”I’m Castile,” he doesn’t add who he is, what title he holds. The sense of responsibility is still so new and unfamiliar. Having a tag behind his name would taste too foreign on the edge of his tongue. ”I will join you, and Lepis hopefully soon.”