10-14-2019, 01:48 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
The lull is more unnerving than the drums of war.
Castile is waiting, a poised cat. It won’t be long, he muses, until the world flips again and his fire rains down from the sky. Despite his friendships branching out like tendrils of spiderwebs, he realizes that it is not permanent. Mother was even betrayed. It’s likely that he will be, too.
The congregation in Nerine was anticlimactic but there was tension bubbling underneath the placid surface. He knows what Lepis plans, how it likely enrages Heartfire to her core.
But there is so much more to it, so many more discussions that occur behind his back as Loess stirs restlessly. His eyes trace the border feverishly all while Cyprin clutches his side and weaves tendrils of magic into the soil and into the clouds to create small creatures that assist in vigilance. A sideways grin reassures Castile, but it wavers when motion catches his eye and steers him toward Litotes.
They move together, their bodies synchronous in movement but starkly different in appearance. He keeps her close for multiple reasons, all of which are deeply tucked into the chasms of his mind. A soft touch cradles her shoulder in the long silence until they’ve reached the outsiders. There is only Litotes and a young boy similarly clutched adjacent to him. An inquisitive tilt of their heads – again, similar – but it is Castile whose gravelly voice shatters the quiet. ”Lies,” they last saw each other in Pangea when Valdis’ scent thickly clung to the dusty rocks, ”To what do I owe the pleasure?” A lopsided grin manages to feebly crawl across the thin line of his lips despite the reeling of his thoughts that deepens a sense of mistrust and uncertainty.
With a sharp breath, he acknowledges the boy and realizes how the curled horns have replaced his eyes.
”And you’ve brought with you…” he trails off with a curious glance to the Pangean king before shaking his head and remembering his sibling standing in his shadow. ”This is Cyprin.” She mutely nods as her eyes drink in the sight of them, memorizing every intricate detail.
Castile is waiting, a poised cat. It won’t be long, he muses, until the world flips again and his fire rains down from the sky. Despite his friendships branching out like tendrils of spiderwebs, he realizes that it is not permanent. Mother was even betrayed. It’s likely that he will be, too.
The congregation in Nerine was anticlimactic but there was tension bubbling underneath the placid surface. He knows what Lepis plans, how it likely enrages Heartfire to her core.
But there is so much more to it, so many more discussions that occur behind his back as Loess stirs restlessly. His eyes trace the border feverishly all while Cyprin clutches his side and weaves tendrils of magic into the soil and into the clouds to create small creatures that assist in vigilance. A sideways grin reassures Castile, but it wavers when motion catches his eye and steers him toward Litotes.
They move together, their bodies synchronous in movement but starkly different in appearance. He keeps her close for multiple reasons, all of which are deeply tucked into the chasms of his mind. A soft touch cradles her shoulder in the long silence until they’ve reached the outsiders. There is only Litotes and a young boy similarly clutched adjacent to him. An inquisitive tilt of their heads – again, similar – but it is Castile whose gravelly voice shatters the quiet. ”Lies,” they last saw each other in Pangea when Valdis’ scent thickly clung to the dusty rocks, ”To what do I owe the pleasure?” A lopsided grin manages to feebly crawl across the thin line of his lips despite the reeling of his thoughts that deepens a sense of mistrust and uncertainty.
With a sharp breath, he acknowledges the boy and realizes how the curled horns have replaced his eyes.
”And you’ve brought with you…” he trails off with a curious glance to the Pangean king before shaking his head and remembering his sibling standing in his shadow. ”This is Cyprin.” She mutely nods as her eyes drink in the sight of them, memorizing every intricate detail.
castile