Sochi;

[Castile]

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

It was necessary to find them, to prepare for what may come.

First, it was Reia. Castile, with his acute senses, scoured the Island’s hills and palm forest until he found his daughter resting near the heart of their home. A carcass lies next to her, picked clean of its meat and innards. A smile paints across his face as his eyes trace the innocence of her face while she rests. As another step inches him closer, she stirs and blinks up at him. ”Daddy?” her voice is delicate despite the sharp edges of her face, predatory in every way. Muted by his paternal infatuation with her, Castile edges closer until he is able to press his muzzle to her poll. He breathes her in and savors the moment before finally whispering into her crest, ”Let’s find your mother.” In her excitement, Reia’s mane combusts into blue flames, licking Castile’s muzzle as he slowly pulls away. The heat radiating from her is a comfort, settling his electrified nerves, if even for the moment.

They travel together, often adjacent to each other except when Reia bounds forward when a tropical bird takes flight from the ground. Castile airily chuckles at her antics but otherwise remains focused on finding Sochi.

As stealthy and silent as the woman is, the father-daughter pair eventually find her. Reia, with her mane and tail wildly kissed by fire, runs forward and tries to embrace her mother before recoiling as to avoid burning her. Like a shadow, Castile looms forward with heavy footsteps and a furrowed brow. ”Ridiculous,” he grumbles in reference to the opposition of his overtaking. The crown remains his, at least for now, but he questions whether it will remain atop his head in the coming days. It isn’t in him to submit, to accept an unfavorable outcome. Rolling his shoulders with an expression of distaste, he considers their options thoughtfully. ”In the chance I lose the Island, for now, we can either turn our focus to Loess for the time being, or I can try to immediately challenge again for the Island.” He won’t be quashed. Dragons never bend the knee.

castile

[sochi]

Sochi

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

Her irritation at the meeting has not easily bled from her.

It eats at her, making her quick to snap, quick to lash out. She is glad for her daughter’s independence in these moments—glad that her daughter leaves to entertain herself while Sochi finds an outlet for her growing sense of impatience and frustration. Today, that has manifested in hours of her finding comfort in her tigress form—hunting for sport and food and practice all the same. Her belly is swollen with the food, her mouth stained with the blood, but there is still an emptiness, a gnawing ache to fill.

When Castile and Reia break through to her, she shifts into her equine form, still smeared with the crimson evidence of her kills. She accepts the embrace from her daughter, not shying from the heat of her but not holding her close. When she breaks away, Sochi turns her over-bright gaze to the dragon stallion, listening to him quietly, studying the harsh planes and angles of his face.

“They are fools,” she finally says, the words like a bullet shot from her mouth. Her disdain is clear in the way her lips peel back from her teeth. “They are not worth the fight. All they do is talk about their feelings and try settle disagreements with votes.” A shadow of a laugh, rough as bark on her tongue. “You should be more than a king of such fools.” It was their loss if they didn’t want the strongest to be their leader; it was their loss if they preferred something comfortable instead of something powerful.

He mentions Loess and she perks an ear before rolling a shoulder.

“Perhaps Loess would be more worthy of your presence.” She finds his eyes again and exhales, letting loose her tight hold on her frustration. “I trust your judgment and stand by whatever you choose.”  

Not blindly, but he has earned her trust and respect—for now, at least.

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

@[Castile]

[Castile]

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

Admittedly, he loves how she takes his side with the same predatory perception. Growls, primal in nature, vibrate through their cores and Reia tries to join in. Hers, of course, doesn’t rattle so deeply, but her lips curl to expose her jagged teeth nonetheless, conveying her disdain as well. Castile regards her with a gentle bump of his shoulder against her while his eyes brighten seeing the blue flames tracing down her crest. She is a perfect rendition of their passionate – perhaps almost dangerous – coupling. It’s for her, for his children, that he wants to seize the island. He doesn’t bend a knee, not anymore. A decade of being submissive has chiseled him away and revealed something far superior and stubborn. His eyes are narrowed as fire burns through his veins. Palm trees reach out to them and groan with a tropical breeze. The isolation of an island is alluring and it holds his interest despite the onlookers boasting their opposition.

”They wouldn’t stay,” he replies as they sour his thoughts, his voice throaty and distant. ”If,” and he lingers on the word thoughtfully, ”I keep the Resort, they will be gone. I went against my nature to compromise, and they stomped on it. So, they can drown in the tide if this becomes mine.” Reia peers up at him, taken aback by his proclamation, but she says nothing. She witnessed the outbreak, but she also saw the blood on father’s lips (we are hunters, what do they expect?). Smoke coils from her nostrils amid her silence, her eyes darting to mother to watch her reactions. Sochi, just as agitated, maintains a composure that Reia attempts to mirror until father speaks again, his voice nearly a growl. ”I won’t tuck my tail. If they keep the Resort, I will give them all.” He pauses as a jagged, malicious grin stretches his lips. ”It is, after all, what they deserve.”

Don’t apologize. Don’t bend to anyone. Don’t change your nature for anyone.

The words reverberate through him as a wandering glance finds the lapping ocean waves. Memories glide seamlessly across his mind, considering what he is and what he has become. The years have molded him and sharpened him like a dagger. He isn’t the quiet or nonchalant boy anymore. Volatile, dangerous – that’s what he is now except to the family that he is gradually expanding. The mothers, and of course their children, see the tenderness he is capable of, but the opposition sees something so much worse. Deep in thought, Castile’s jaw alternates between clenching and relaxing until his attention slowly drifts back to Sochi, drawn to the gleam in her eye, the languid roll of her shoulders, and the ferocity etched across her pretty face. ”Keep Loess in mind,” he confirms, pushing it to the realm of possibility. Admittedly, he just wants a home to keep his family – a place to have everyone clustered together – so that he may wake in the morning to their company.

Amid the chaos and his frustration, Castile traces down Sochi’s face. A lopsided grin breaks the rage and thought smeared across his expression, bringing a sudden softness that hasn’t been seen since arriving here. ”You really are beautiful.”

castile

[sochi]

Sochi

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

Once, Sochi had been a joyful, exuberant girl. She had been bright and cheery and loved laughing; she had joked and played. The image of that girl has long since died. It had died everyday as Sochi had died to her true nature. It had curled within her as she had denied herself the joy of her predatory instincts. It had died when she had first accepted that quest from Carnage, regardless of the rage it had stoked in her. It had died when she had killed that mare beneath the water, when she had clawed out her own heart, when she had died on the beach. It had died when her jaws sunk into that poor stallion’s throat.

In its place is a woman sharpened and hardened and utterly sure of herself because of it.

She has no give within her any longer, and she doesn’t expect any from the world. She merely accepts whatever is to come and molds it as she will—and in Castile, she feels as she has found a partner in that.

Smoke curls from him and his words are harsh but she just nods, the barest of smiles shadowing her lips. “Loess,” she says mildly. “I will keep it in mind.” To be fair, she has no real care about where they call home. They are predators and wanderers and above being tied to one single land—although she would never deny a dragon his horde or treasures. Should Castile want a place to serve as a base then she would gladly join in the fight with him and should he choose another, she has no distaste in moving.

So she accepts this and instead turns her gaze to him a little sharper at the sudden softness in his words. She stills beneath it, her silver eyes a little sharper—almost wary, almost hungry. “Do you think so?” she says, amusement barely touching the corner of her mouth. She’s never really given much thought as to whether or not she was beautiful. Strong, yes. Fierce, definitely. But beautiful? It hadn’t been something that she truly cared about. Her years, as few as they may be, have left her hardy and scarred and marked by it, the ragged tattoo of her own claws racing across her chest. But there is something about the way that he says it that appeals to her and she doesn’t shrug it off completely, instead she watches him.

“I am surprised that I enjoy hearing you say that,” she finally offers, when something like mischief turns her gaze mercurial. She reaches out to bite lightly at the corner of his mouth like she did when he had first walked away from his battle with Tiphon, and she can nearly taste the coppery blood as she had then.

“Although, I must admit, I prefer when you show it instead.”

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

@[Castile]