01-16-2020, 07:01 PM
GHAUL
i can take you there, but baby, you won't make it back
It is night, and he cannot sleep.
It is night and that sadness he was born with is tangled in his throat once more.
His breathing comes heavier than usual as he rises up onto his talons and forfeits his efforts at drifting off any time soon. Ghaul has always found it strange how something intangible can become such a weight on his ribs despite his growing strength. Each day he has been taller than before and yet his burden never seems to lighten or become any easier to carry. But luckily there is another who understands the shape of his worries.
He knows Draco’s outline well even when it is contorted by sleep but he wonders if his brother has managed to find rest either. The drake gently noses at his sibling’s shoulder and gives a soft huff to childishly demand his attention for a while. Ghaul steps back to give the elder boy some space and lifts his head to its normal posture. (Secretly, he finds some happiness in finally being taller than Draco, but he says nothing of it.)
“I cannot sleep. I keep thinking of Father again,” he mumbles somewhat shamefully. He knows that the other holds anger in his heart for their sudden abandonment but he has never not yet learned how to let his love turn bitter and sharp. Litotes remains a tender weakness in the recesses of his mind even when he thinks he’s come to accept that he’s gone.
“I keep thinking I’ve caught his scent, but when I track it he’s never there.”
Slowly, his wings unfurl and simply hang by his sides as he turns his head to search the blurs and outlines around them. There is only ever the same smears of red and white in a sea of greens and blues but he remains hopeful for whatever reason.
“He’s never there.”
It is night and that sadness he was born with is tangled in his throat once more.
His breathing comes heavier than usual as he rises up onto his talons and forfeits his efforts at drifting off any time soon. Ghaul has always found it strange how something intangible can become such a weight on his ribs despite his growing strength. Each day he has been taller than before and yet his burden never seems to lighten or become any easier to carry. But luckily there is another who understands the shape of his worries.
He knows Draco’s outline well even when it is contorted by sleep but he wonders if his brother has managed to find rest either. The drake gently noses at his sibling’s shoulder and gives a soft huff to childishly demand his attention for a while. Ghaul steps back to give the elder boy some space and lifts his head to its normal posture. (Secretly, he finds some happiness in finally being taller than Draco, but he says nothing of it.)
“I cannot sleep. I keep thinking of Father again,” he mumbles somewhat shamefully. He knows that the other holds anger in his heart for their sudden abandonment but he has never not yet learned how to let his love turn bitter and sharp. Litotes remains a tender weakness in the recesses of his mind even when he thinks he’s come to accept that he’s gone.
“I keep thinking I’ve caught his scent, but when I track it he’s never there.”
Slowly, his wings unfurl and simply hang by his sides as he turns his head to search the blurs and outlines around them. There is only ever the same smears of red and white in a sea of greens and blues but he remains hopeful for whatever reason.
“He’s never there.”
@[draco]