that waltzing jibberish

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

It's true - the second the words drip from Asta's lips everything about Danta seems to turn to steel; the set of his jaw and shoulders, the way he straightens, the hardness in his eyes - eyes that are now very interested in the bonfire before them. "Most free I've ever felt," he agrees, the tone warm even if his expression could cut glass. Rolling his shoulders as if forcing himself to thaw somewhat - it's bad enough having the reaction without knowing Asta has caused it, and that he's fully aware that he's caused it - Danta clears his throat and turns to the other man.

"Ah, that is a shame," he agrees, as conversational as he can get. "Plenty of wild animals, at least. I hope it doesn't need to be said, but the Grounds and I would appreciate it if you kept your teeth out of the general population while you're here. The rest of us have managed it well enough." What Astaroth does in other regions is entirely his business, of course.

Dantalion