anyone;

[Castile]

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

Curiosity spurred him into a casual flight and led him from the Resort. An uneasy glance over his shoulder provides a glimmer of destruction that will ensue upon his departure. Nothing yet has been set in stone. The Resort’s fate remains undecided and in the playful hands of the fairies. With faith in them, he decided to expand his horizon and regard a rumor that has burned the edges of his ears.
 
To minimize his travel time, Castile shifted his body into a dragon. The beat of his wings is thunderous as he soars effortlessly among the clouds. He takes no pleasure in it, no swirling or flirting with the altitudes. Streamlined and with a stoic expression, he steadies himself and yields to nothing. Loess, a place he once called home, rattles with life and spurs a thrumming bout of drama in an otherwise quiet Beqanna.
 
The plague still infests their world, and its effects still writhe through Castile’s veins but Tiphon’s magic has suppressed his symptoms for the time being. Blood no longer dribbles down his muzzle and the fatigue has since dissipated to grant him the ability to travel across the world to reach a land he has nearly forgotten. It’s still exhausting, of course, but at least he still possesses a reserve of energy as his body fluidly transitions back into a horse before beginning his descent into clear visibility. Nothing of him remains draconic, not even his wings, when he finally touches down near the border. A deep breath is drawn into his lungs as he replays his brief time here as a Regent.
 
How has time flown by so fast?

castile