[SE] cut from marble

Astaroth

// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //

Nodding to her as she instructs him to hold onto the end, he does as dutifully told while she wraps the bandage around him, sighing in a bit of relief when she tucks it in and ensures it’s secured properly, and its with an amused little sharp smile once again that he dips his chin a little. “Ah, I was actually intending on taking a trip to see her for it.” He liked Isla, and it was certainly a trip worth taking if they got to share more of that wonderful tea the Remedy had.

Or, perhaps a hunt, given the tinge of iron in the air making his stomach churn with a hint of hunger. Ignoring it, as he was often prone to do, Astaroth lets her clean up her hands, before he grabs another and moves to start to dry off his pants and then to the floor, soaking up a couple of towels before adding them to a small hamper nearby a jug of the cleaning product. His pants are still damp, but nothing that angling toward the fire can’t fix, as he fruitlessly tries to brush the dark locks back and around his horns once more. “It feels so much better.” He hums as he warms by the fire, eyes shutting for a moment as he takes in the momentary peace. He’d thank her again, but he assumes that she would say much the same as before.

// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //