electing strange perfections
in any stranger I choose
in any stranger I choose
Gods, but that sort of dry remark would have had Danta in stitches if he could breathe without the cold trying to needle into his lungs. Alas, all he manages is a wheezing laugh and a shit-eating grin to Asta - victory, clearly. "So they fucking should," he says, grumbling his way into a sitting - and then standing - position with the other man's help. Brushing off his ruddy leather coat with hands that are numb to the wrist by now, Danta suspects that his fingertips at the very least will have turned to stone.
It's that sobering thought that has him nestling straight against the offered warmth, and it's with a shivery huff that he nods down the street towards where the amber glow of the bonfire can already be seen in the distance. "I hate Deepfrost," he informs Asta, as if he might not have been aware of it before now.
It's that sobering thought that has him nestling straight against the offered warmth, and it's with a shivery huff that he nods down the street towards where the amber glow of the bonfire can already be seen in the distance. "I hate Deepfrost," he informs Asta, as if he might not have been aware of it before now.
Dantalion
you knew who I was
with every step that I ran to you
with every step that I ran to you
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
