A touch of shadow

The courier's nose wrinkled up as he swallowed back the instinctive urge to argue about the difference between merely old and first. Asta was glib with his responses, smooth and quick with his words where Tal stumbled and struggled to put his thoughts and feelings into concrete sentences, and he had a feeling it wouldn't end well for him if he tried. Anyways, starting an argument with a guy he was asking permission from seemed like a bad move, even for him.

Didn't stop him from feeling like the guy was slighting his own goddess by lumping her in with the heralds, but that was between Asta and Dygra, and Tal had bigger fish to fry.

"No, y'don't..." he agreed slowly to the declaration that the old man didn't live in other regions, brow furrowing as something in the other man's words caught at his own memory of how the conversation had started, and he chewed on his lip, frowning thoughtfully. "Hm? I mean... it sounds like y'aren't real familiar with th'Grounds, either, for someone who lives here," he said slowly, feeling his way through the breadcrumbs of clues that had been dropped. "An' I'm not askin' about me movin' here just for that. I'm askin' if there was someone who already lives here who wanted t'build it, would y'be okay with it?"

Astaroth

// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //

Astaroth is quite settled in for this debate, eager and curious about the other man’s motivations, despite how baseline they seemed to him. A part of him was looking for more, curious why the Accepted might feel the need to insert himself into a different land, claiming he’s bettering the potential masses, which is a very interesting take for the older Ancient’s standards.

“Correct.” Asta says with that very same grin. “I have been away for a very long time. But, I am quite often in conversation with the Maverick.” Who rules the region in question. If he didn’t know something, asking Danta was his first go to for answers.

“Once again, despite still being inclined to say no, for the sake of the argument: it depends.” He shrugs a shoulder gently, shifting his weight slightly again, cane shifting to his other hand. “What are their motivations?”

// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //