Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
He sighs quite an exasperated sigh as Danta continues, rolling his eyes slightly as he finishes his cup and hands it out expectantly toward the Maverick. “I need my magic back.” He whines a nasally kind of sound, before exhaling. “That should help.” Of course, he attributes it to being stuck as stone for so long, his magic and other shifts vanishing the longer he remained a statue.
Agreement is hummed at the mention of the chaos, as is the playful quirk of his lips with it. “Mm, it was nice.” As for the conversation subject, Asta’s nose wrinkles in agreement again. “I was told specifically to not talk to you.” He says it casually but Asta’s eyes linger on the blonde, drifting between his face to the bruise. “Unless it was short and in passing. It was a strict rule since I arrived.” It’s why he remained such a lone wolf, not entirely because of his fyrhund shift, of course.
Agreement is hummed at the mention of the chaos, as is the playful quirk of his lips with it. “Mm, it was nice.” As for the conversation subject, Asta’s nose wrinkles in agreement again. “I was told specifically to not talk to you.” He says it casually but Asta’s eyes linger on the blonde, drifting between his face to the bruise. “Unless it was short and in passing. It was a strict rule since I arrived.” It’s why he remained such a lone wolf, not entirely because of his fyrhund shift, of course.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
