05-07-2020, 12:05 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 trees are confining, barring him here like a prison. Castile craves the openness of the sky or the rocky ledges of Nerine where he once learned to fly. Taiga is like a prison, but he agreed to come at Nash’s invitation. The young boy makes for enjoyable company, and it eased the once-King’s reeling mind.
Six years as a King, and he was exhausted. After his mind succumbed to the primal needs of his draconic alter-ego, he wanted a break.
But that only lasted a few days until Nash lured him and rekindled Castile’s boyish memories of an easy life. The forest would be quiet, a perfect place to recover himself, but he walked into a nest of agitated bees. An uprising, a battle, a seemingly endless dispute, all greeted him at the door. It would be easier to flee, to leave behind a land he has no ties to, but Nash’s endearing personality kept Castile rooted here, at least for now.
That’s why he quietly wanders, still here amid the blooming chaos.
That’s why he takes it upon himself to greet someone else, someone newer, at the invisible border of Taiga. Castile’s head tilts as he draws to a halt after a brief scrutiny during his slow, nonchalant approach. ”Hello,” he greets with a smile blossoming across his handsome face, retaining his sorrel appearance for now. Nothing to display, nothing to set him apart. Four stockings and a blaze, nutmeg eyes. It’s strange to be in this skin, to not parade as his true self, but he plays the role well. ”I’m Rocky. Are you new here, too?” Perhaps then, there will be fewer eyes on him as the newest member at such a turbulent period.
Six years as a King, and he was exhausted. After his mind succumbed to the primal needs of his draconic alter-ego, he wanted a break.
But that only lasted a few days until Nash lured him and rekindled Castile’s boyish memories of an easy life. The forest would be quiet, a perfect place to recover himself, but he walked into a nest of agitated bees. An uprising, a battle, a seemingly endless dispute, all greeted him at the door. It would be easier to flee, to leave behind a land he has no ties to, but Nash’s endearing personality kept Castile rooted here, at least for now.
That’s why he quietly wanders, still here amid the blooming chaos.
That’s why he takes it upon himself to greet someone else, someone newer, at the invisible border of Taiga. Castile’s head tilts as he draws to a halt after a brief scrutiny during his slow, nonchalant approach. ”Hello,” he greets with a smile blossoming across his handsome face, retaining his sorrel appearance for now. Nothing to display, nothing to set him apart. Four stockings and a blaze, nutmeg eyes. It’s strange to be in this skin, to not parade as his true self, but he plays the role well. ”I’m Rocky. Are you new here, too?” Perhaps then, there will be fewer eyes on him as the newest member at such a turbulent period.
castile
@[Ruthless]