my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake
"Sounds as though you have been to the wrong funerals," Danta informs her with a crooked smile. "But fine - if you insist. And when is this new birthday of yours? Today?" The prospect of an imminent party is always welcome to Danta, and he half hopes she'll say yes if only so he can go and prepare some ridiculous and elaborate (and hedonistic, undoubtedly) celebration at the Dusklight.
Only then Maea is reaching out to touch his cheek, a gesture that has him tilting his head a fraction and glancing pointedly away from her. Like Asta's fussing over his attire, the gesture isn't rejected, exactly, though neither is it necessarily enjoyed; Danta tolerates it, because it comes from someone who has crossed the line from mere stranger or acquaintance.
"Shall we go?" He asks with a raise of his eyebrows, before stepping away to fetch his coat.
Only then Maea is reaching out to touch his cheek, a gesture that has him tilting his head a fraction and glancing pointedly away from her. Like Asta's fussing over his attire, the gesture isn't rejected, exactly, though neither is it necessarily enjoyed; Danta tolerates it, because it comes from someone who has crossed the line from mere stranger or acquaintance.
"Shall we go?" He asks with a raise of his eyebrows, before stepping away to fetch his coat.
the maverick
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
