Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
Eyes shut and facing the ceiling amongst the pillows, he shifts a little bit closer to the fireplace, dipping enough that the prong of his horn clacks against the wood floor. But he pays it little mind as she speaks in quite a quiet whisper and Astaroth can’t immediately pick apart what it is she says. When he does, however, it’s with a quiet little sigh that he tucks in again with his blankets.
“It was relatively dangerous to be a male in my tribe. Unless you proved yourself, it was common for the women to get rid of you once they got what they needed.” It’s why he has zero idea who his father was, and little care to find out. There was no family coddling. And it’s part of the reason he’s so prone to being a black widow. And it’s part of the reason he simply doesn’t get involved.
“It was relatively dangerous to be a male in my tribe. Unless you proved yourself, it was common for the women to get rid of you once they got what they needed.” It’s why he has zero idea who his father was, and little care to find out. There was no family coddling. And it’s part of the reason he’s so prone to being a black widow. And it’s part of the reason he simply doesn’t get involved.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
