castillon of the prairie.

ooc: Castillon is not a member of the Lagoon and is still secondary in the Prairie, as Aura is still coming as the captive Garmr won. Castillon has chosen to accompany her for the beginning of her captivity and will stay with her until mid-winter.

It had taken them the day to travel to the Lagoon, most because he was still somewhat nursing his sore ankle. The extra travel pushed the injury further, but he only grimaced and insisted they carry on, doing everything he could to hide how much pain he was in from Aura.

Castillon had spent a good deal of the seasons between his first and second year with his cousin, Nephilim, running up and down Crossing Isle. They’d mostly stayed away from the Lagoon as they hadn’t wanted to cross paths with a bachelor and risk being recruited away from their homes. The Peak, too, had been mostly avoided as it wasn’t anything that entranced either young stallion. But the Falls, the Meadow, and the Common were all very familiar areas and he recognized the quickest, easiest paths they could take to cut across the land and make their way south.

When they arrived it was already late in the night with the moon hanging high in the sky. “We’ll find Garmr tomorrow,” Castillon said, voice both tired and irritated, just thinking of having to be face-to-face with the silver-haired bastard again. “For now, we’ll find somewhere to bed down alone for the night,” he suggested, trying to offer an encouraging smile but feeling as if it was flat. He could only imagine how frightened Aura was, taken away from what had been safe since she came to the islands - the Prairie, alongside her brother - and brought here to the Lagoon. As soon as they crossed into the soft, shifting grounds the musky scent of stallion seemed to increase.

“How about here?” He asked as they paused beside a weeping willow whose roots were buried in a rising slope of land. It’d keep them out of the mud and water, and they could curl up in the shadows, behind the leafy curtain. Castillon reached out to push his dark muzzle through the vegetation, parting and lifting it away so she’d have room to pass through.

whoever makes my baby cry is gonna lose some teeth tonight
stallion ∙ mutt ∙ zevulun x riesling ∙ buckskin snowcap ∙ 15.3 hands