darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied; castile

[sochi]

Sochi

darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied
maybe you need me or maybe you don't

There is an animalistic part of Sochi that wants to give into the howling, keening fear that threatens to rend her apart. There is a part of her that wants to split apart at the seams and then hunt down anyone who had dared touch her family—who had dared to harm her dragon-born daughter or her youngest. To anyone who had threatened to rip them apart before Castile had even been given the chance to meet his boy, the one with her coloring and a gift she can only assume came through his side.

A gift she doesn’t understand and yet loves all the same.

Still, more than her feral grief and rage, there is a sense of control that she has harnessed her entire life, and looking down at her father’s wide eyes, she holds onto it now. Instead of shifting into her tigress form and hunting down whomever had harmed her family, she remains calm, her silver eyes the only source of the churning tides within her. “We should,” she agrees, her husky voice steady despite it all.

She glances down at their daughter, pressing her nose into her neck.

“Can you go find the other children of Loess? Perhaps he ran off playing with them.”

She pauses, realizing that Reia has yet to meet him.

“He looks like the blue of my face, but all over,” she smiles, despite the tightening in her gut. “And he has your eyes.” Her eyes, she thinks, looking into Reia’s, but she refuses to let her daughter see anything but perfect calm on her face. “Now, hurry, while your father and I look through the hills.”

When she is gone, and Sochi is certain that she is out of earshot, she closes her eyes, taking a steadying breath and feeling something like panic rear its head in her. She fights against it, breathing out hard, before she finally opened her eyes again and looks up, studying his face.

“I don’t know where to start,” her voice is tight. “I don’t know where he would have gone.”

playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons
if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf

@[Castile]