the streets are all violent with murderous excitement
“That sounds perfect.” Asta drawls, holding onto Danta as he shivers and they finally get within the bonfires warmth. It already starts to work for him, having his wool and fur lined jacket harboring much of the brunt of the cold, made better with the warmth Danta has to offer today.
Releasing Danta as they break before the bonfire, mimicking him as he shoves his fur lined sleeves up, sticking his fingers in (only grey thankfully), and grimacing at the sight of Danta’s blackened ones, nose wrinkling and all. “Something warm to drink with cinnamon sounds impeccable. Do you have anything like it?” A complete and easy conversation, that might look odd if they weren’t Ancients, hands shoved into the crackling stained glass flames of the bonfire.
Releasing Danta as they break before the bonfire, mimicking him as he shoves his fur lined sleeves up, sticking his fingers in (only grey thankfully), and grimacing at the sight of Danta’s blackened ones, nose wrinkling and all. “Something warm to drink with cinnamon sounds impeccable. Do you have anything like it?” A complete and easy conversation, that might look odd if they weren’t Ancients, hands shoved into the crackling stained glass flames of the bonfire.
Astaroth
the hunter and the prey are dancing every day
