[Training] got lost in the game

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

A low chuckle leaves the butcher at Isra’s observation as he cleans up his hands now, moving to hang the rag on the edge of the table before he picks up a bag he’s brought, hidden by the side of the stone table, before he starts to pick up the human bones and slip them into the bag. “What fun it was, too. Alas, I still feel pent up.” He sighs in a way that seems to suggest he’s already wistful and nostalgic of the time despite it being essentially minutes since it happened, though a thrum of tension remains in his shoulders.

But the grin blooms in full force when the other man speaks of Whitebrim, inclining his head as he tucks his trophies away, collecting feathers and other bones from the ramphire’s carcass. “I am indeed. Only… centuries before your time.” Tilting his head toward Isar, his dark gaze flickers back toward the other Ancient. “Still Whitebrim, however, through and through.” Closing the bag, Astaroth turns to cleaning up what’s left, snagging a small bone from the ramphire he’d left, using the blunt thin edge to clean beneath his fingernails to get the blood off. “I hear it doesn’t exist any longer.” He murmurs, casting his gaze up to Isar.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine