11-28-2018, 04:02 PM
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
”I don’t know how she ever got tied up with that idiot,” Klaudius, of course, but the necessity of the name is moot. At this point, their victim’s name is implied and fading from the tongues of their peers. The murder was cruel, but Castile inwardly wishes it had been more so. They could have elongated the stallion’s misery so that he could’ve suffered sufficiently, but Castile was hungry for vengeance. He did everything he could not to rip apart and eat the fool.
It is a piece of their past now. Unfortunately, Castile doesn’t realize that there will remain a piece of Klaudius latched to Sabra’s side soon.
The idiot will be in the past, present, and future.
Castile recognizes how his heart wrenches painfully in his chest. It’s a sense of longing, and of failure. His emotions are untethered, free to swirl through him like a storm. Futile attempts are made to harness them as he replays the transpired events with a resigning nod. ”She does deserve better,” he murmurs into the chilled air, his breath clouding in front of him as he stares thoughtfully toward the north. The agreement hangs without elaboration for a long moment before a half-hearted chuckle breaks Castile’s musing. ”She deserves better than me,” his confession is choked with far too much to pinpoint. Is it anger? Distress? Regret? Not even he, the brooding dragon, can determine what is most dominating him when the words tumble forward. So, he simply sighs and drops his head to idly brush apart the snow to find a few sparse blades of grass. His wings shuffle. His tail flicks. Everything is a sign of his internal conflict.
When he lifts his eyes again, leveling on Leilan, he nods. ”Yes, there are others. My family is all over the damned place.” They aren’t in a centralized location as he would prefer. Their scattered locations are wearing him down from having to frequently travel. ”Hyaline, Nerine, the Cove, and the River. They’re everywhere – one here, one there.” A slow shake of his head betrays the disappointment. He can’t even provide his entire brood a single home. Much like him, they are nomads. ”My twins are in the Cove,” he doesn’t know that Valdis slipped away and disobeyed her parents, ”so they are next on the list to visit.” A chill runs down Castile’s spine, a reminder of the infection brewing inside him, worsening with each passing day. Although it may hinder him as a sentinel here, he still hesitates to abandon the borders knowing well that a storm is looming nearer. ”And if the group of goonies comes back to pitch a fit or fight?” Underneath his forelock, his brow lifts. ”If I’m gone to find my kids, I might not be back here in time.” He would, obviously, take part in Nerine’s success.
”I guess I will just have to be fast.” A chuckle and a cough follow as he maps out his next few days.
It is a piece of their past now. Unfortunately, Castile doesn’t realize that there will remain a piece of Klaudius latched to Sabra’s side soon.
The idiot will be in the past, present, and future.
Castile recognizes how his heart wrenches painfully in his chest. It’s a sense of longing, and of failure. His emotions are untethered, free to swirl through him like a storm. Futile attempts are made to harness them as he replays the transpired events with a resigning nod. ”She does deserve better,” he murmurs into the chilled air, his breath clouding in front of him as he stares thoughtfully toward the north. The agreement hangs without elaboration for a long moment before a half-hearted chuckle breaks Castile’s musing. ”She deserves better than me,” his confession is choked with far too much to pinpoint. Is it anger? Distress? Regret? Not even he, the brooding dragon, can determine what is most dominating him when the words tumble forward. So, he simply sighs and drops his head to idly brush apart the snow to find a few sparse blades of grass. His wings shuffle. His tail flicks. Everything is a sign of his internal conflict.
When he lifts his eyes again, leveling on Leilan, he nods. ”Yes, there are others. My family is all over the damned place.” They aren’t in a centralized location as he would prefer. Their scattered locations are wearing him down from having to frequently travel. ”Hyaline, Nerine, the Cove, and the River. They’re everywhere – one here, one there.” A slow shake of his head betrays the disappointment. He can’t even provide his entire brood a single home. Much like him, they are nomads. ”My twins are in the Cove,” he doesn’t know that Valdis slipped away and disobeyed her parents, ”so they are next on the list to visit.” A chill runs down Castile’s spine, a reminder of the infection brewing inside him, worsening with each passing day. Although it may hinder him as a sentinel here, he still hesitates to abandon the borders knowing well that a storm is looming nearer. ”And if the group of goonies comes back to pitch a fit or fight?” Underneath his forelock, his brow lifts. ”If I’m gone to find my kids, I might not be back here in time.” He would, obviously, take part in Nerine’s success.
”I guess I will just have to be fast.” A chuckle and a cough follow as he maps out his next few days.
castile
@[Leilan]