a romantic, candelit dinner would be incomplete
“I would hope so,” comes the drawl, Asta settling into the seat and looking over as he keeps his hand pressed against the matching wound to see the dressings wrapped around (oh and every mark the fyrhund had left on the Maverick.) Asta doesn’t look that much better, not with his scorched suit jacket, with the hole punctured from the ice and the blood drying as it tries to clot.
He flashes Danta a roguish smirk, though, sighing lightly. “I got a small bite.” To any others listening they’d just assume he’d nipped in warning like a cattle dog. But no, he’d gotten a chunk and was quite pleased with himself despite the pain in his shoulder and the slight annoyance of his clothing being ruined. It’s enough of an answer as to how he is, though.
Especially as he waves over the person that had just fixed Danta up and shrugs out of part of his own clothing to get equally cleaned up. “Something strong sounds nice.” He says idly, spaded tail brushing against Danta briefly again as he’s readjusted so that the disinfectant can be placed, a hiss slipping out of his sharp teeth.
He flashes Danta a roguish smirk, though, sighing lightly. “I got a small bite.” To any others listening they’d just assume he’d nipped in warning like a cattle dog. But no, he’d gotten a chunk and was quite pleased with himself despite the pain in his shoulder and the slight annoyance of his clothing being ruined. It’s enough of an answer as to how he is, though.
Especially as he waves over the person that had just fixed Danta up and shrugs out of part of his own clothing to get equally cleaned up. “Something strong sounds nice.” He says idly, spaded tail brushing against Danta briefly again as he’s readjusted so that the disinfectant can be placed, a hiss slipping out of his sharp teeth.
Astaroth
without all this blood /////
