By the fireplace mantel
The pitter patter of rain outside was a welcome noise in the solitude of the night- accompanied with the occasional thundering, yet it wasn’t very loud due to being far away. The old castle walls stood solemn deep in the forest, which seemed as old as time- now hidden by the tall trees that grew by the proximity of the castle. in the years it had been unkempt on the outside- greenery such as vines and bushes grew on its stone and along the path towards it- now barley visible. almost as if the castle was non existent.
Creeaaakkkkkk…Squeeeeaaakkk..
the wooden boards would continue the squeaky racket under the footsteps of the monstrous figure. Ragnor made his way from his room, downstairs into the great hall- a place that once was often filled with guests and servants… and his former glory. The place was quiet at night- quieter so than during the day, atleast that’s how it seemed to the former prince. He settled himself down into the large velvet chair infront of the fireplace as the fire's flames danced through the smoldering wood- the sap within the wood popping and crackling every so often, seeing small embers into the air.
Nights like these...It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence that the monster was kept up by his thoughts. Despite it having been over a decade since he and all his servants had been cursed, thoughts of being stuck with the curse- the guilt of it all still often weighed on him. He slouched in the chair- his eyes on the oak wooden floors as he rested elbow on the armrest, followed by him resting his head on his hand- the claws slightly brushing through his unkempt hair. He glanced to his right, looking out the window not too far away from him. He could see the vast night sky and the glimmering stars, like glitter sprinkled across the sky- but he could also see a glimpse of his large monstrous figure. His periwinkle skin practically taunted him, a reminder clear as a red poppy blooming in a barren garden, that he wasn’t human anymore. If that wasn’t an obvious enough sign, his horns stuck out from his hair; his left horn had a black gradient on the tips of them as it went further down the circumference of it and gradually turned the same as the rest of his skin. The other horn lacked this feature- since the black part had broken off. Leaving the keratin monstrosity uglier than it had been in its original state. He sneered at it- the look of himself. He averted his eyes black to the floor- subconsciously searching for patterns in the wood as his tail flicked irritably. His mind dwelling. Dwelling dwelling dwelling. He tried focusing on something- anything else…..
his focus would shift to his surroundings....he could feel the warmth of the flames before him- he could hear the rain outside dripping onto the windows, clashing with the leaves of the forest surrounding his residence. both things small, but to Ragnor, they were small comforts in the disaster that was his thoughts, which were very quickly interrupted with a sudden burst of thunder, much MUCH closer than the previous bursts of thunder, which were almost whispers compared to this. Dear Christ… he wasn’t expecting that. He jolted in his seat- not violently but by no means subtlety, his breath hitched slightly. He never was fond of thunder....he sat quietly, sloughing down slightly more and closing his eyes as his tail whipped, trying to regain some sense of stableness…. Breathe, breathe, breathe…..
