11-08-2019, 11:06 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
Lepis’ response isn’t at all what he expected, but he respects it nonetheless. It’s admirable that she isn’t dropping everything on a whim, that she wants to mull it over and present it to the others it would affect. A feeble, understanding smile plays as an initial response until he cements it with a soft, amiable voice that doesn’t quite match his natural prowess. ”That is fine,” he knows she will not leave him without answers, constantly wondering. All the loose ends will be tied, the relationships either destroyed and fortified, and then she will make a decision.
And then she will either rule Loess with him or continue her solitary rule of the forest.
As sharply edged as his curiosity and eagerness is, Castile does not press her. An endearing expression levels on her as her conflictions become nearly tangible. It’s in the way that she lists them and in the way she adds Wolfbane’s name as though an afterthought. Although his forte has never been relationships – Lepis always had love on her heart while Castile groped in futile effort – he is at least capable of being a shoulder for her to lean on when there is no one else.
”Lepis,” he says her name sweetly, adoringly, in a manner that is solely reserved for her. It’s tempting to touch her again and to pull her into an embrace, but that would immediately reveal his lack of draconic shifting. There is a small ember kindling as his sentence approaches conclusion, but there is no sustainable flame that emanates from his core. In the midst of winter, he is just as cold as her; black smoke doesn’t rise from his nostrils. It wouldn’t either, not in this moment at least. There is no anger, no frustration, no coy arrogance. In a rare moment, Castile is somber as he traces the edges of her face and slowly breathes in the silence. ”Lepis,” he echoes before swallowing his hesitation to quietly ask, ”What is going on?” Not with the politics or the ominous storm brewing across Nerine and Tephra. Deciding to rephrase, he adds, ”What’s wrong between you and Bane?” He tries to keep himself subdued and his stance neutral, desperately trying to hide what level of hate would arise if Wolfbane ever did anything to her.
And then she will either rule Loess with him or continue her solitary rule of the forest.
As sharply edged as his curiosity and eagerness is, Castile does not press her. An endearing expression levels on her as her conflictions become nearly tangible. It’s in the way that she lists them and in the way she adds Wolfbane’s name as though an afterthought. Although his forte has never been relationships – Lepis always had love on her heart while Castile groped in futile effort – he is at least capable of being a shoulder for her to lean on when there is no one else.
”Lepis,” he says her name sweetly, adoringly, in a manner that is solely reserved for her. It’s tempting to touch her again and to pull her into an embrace, but that would immediately reveal his lack of draconic shifting. There is a small ember kindling as his sentence approaches conclusion, but there is no sustainable flame that emanates from his core. In the midst of winter, he is just as cold as her; black smoke doesn’t rise from his nostrils. It wouldn’t either, not in this moment at least. There is no anger, no frustration, no coy arrogance. In a rare moment, Castile is somber as he traces the edges of her face and slowly breathes in the silence. ”Lepis,” he echoes before swallowing his hesitation to quietly ask, ”What is going on?” Not with the politics or the ominous storm brewing across Nerine and Tephra. Deciding to rephrase, he adds, ”What’s wrong between you and Bane?” He tries to keep himself subdued and his stance neutral, desperately trying to hide what level of hate would arise if Wolfbane ever did anything to her.
castile
@[Lepis]