"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
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
Unable to sleep in this densely forested territory, Castile wanders.
Like this – a simple sorrel chestnut with no impressive additives – he cannot find peace in resting on leaves. His lip curls in mild distaste as he placidly weaves among the throng of trees, seeking an opening in the canopy so that he can at least see the night sky. A deep breath is drawn in when he finally locates a patch of moonlight unobstructed by the treetops. A great part of him wants to take flight, to soar once again among the clouds, but he resists with every fiber of his being. Nashua recruited – invited? – him to Taiga like this, as Rocky. How cruel would it be to crush the boy so soon?
A sigh slips from his lips in resignation, his eyes drooping nearly shut with longing until a noise pulls him from the somber lull of his selfish wants.
Blinking, his pupils contract into slits and peer through the forest. Although unfamiliar with most scents, he can at least identify Pangea, and that alone is enough to hook Castile’s attention. A freight train through the orchard, he barrels through the underbrush, ignoring the thorns nipping his legs and the shouts of snapping fallen branches. The thermal reading is enough to locate the pair in the shadows, and Castile – still obediently disguised as Rocky – confronts the intruder as though he is loyal to Izora Lethia (in truth, since being recruited in the autumn, he has mostly lurked on the outskirts leading into this winter, eluding conversation in case he was identified). It takes everything in his power not to shift, or to exhibit a single draconic trait, but he manages it with enough focus as he roots himself at the woman’s side defensively.
He says nothing, keeping his gravely undertones to himself. In the darkness, they do not see his slitted pupils beneath his unruly curtain of forelock.
Just barely brushing his shoulder against Lethy’s in reassurance, Castile prepares to defend Taiga’s remaining leader.
castile
Not sure if Castile CAN block. He is within the 72 hours allotted, and per the rules, a member can attempt to block when the leader is being stolen... And enough posts have been squeaked out before the 72 hours to count as active here.
If he can help block, awesome. If not, oh well - I'd rather have tried and fail than not try and missed an opportunity to help -shrugs-
