Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
“They were often akin to black widows.” He murmurs, before her question of the girls reaches him. Snorting lightly, he shakes his head despite how she can’t see it, his horn knocking against the floor again. “No. We didn’t want to be devoured, so, we kept our distance and found places we could be useful elsewhere. I, for example, was a scout.” It kept him far enough away, but not away enough to not inherit some of the traits.
He listens, though, understanding glimmering in the flat and tone voice that he knows she’s been dealing with that particular trauma for a while. “I’m sorry.” He offers, unsure of what else to say. It was similar enough to his own caution to being led off by women as a younger man that he can understand her hesitation.
He listens, though, understanding glimmering in the flat and tone voice that he knows she’s been dealing with that particular trauma for a while. “I’m sorry.” He offers, unsure of what else to say. It was similar enough to his own caution to being led off by women as a younger man that he can understand her hesitation.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
