// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
“We do always check, though.” He says, despite the conversation shifting and Astaroth focusing on ruining the hard work Danta does. And jokes on you, Dantalion, because it’s pretty hard to pick up dirt when you’re using a pickaxe, isn’t it? Either way, the two silently fight one another like an old married couple, with the butcher giving pause to flash a grin of approval to Charlie’s fyrhund shift, managing to stand up straight when Danta’s pickaxe is hoisted.
“Looking goo-- Excuse me?!” he’s cut off by the bonk of the edge of the pickaxe against his head, growling a little snarl toward the Maverick for the trouble as he steps away right on time for the blonde to shrug at him and start to follow, hoisting his own shovel on his shoulder and the bag he’s brought with secured in the other. And while they follow her toward the distant rumbling, Astaroth clears his throat and glances over toward Dantalion. “Do you know what she heard?”
“Looking goo-- Excuse me?!” he’s cut off by the bonk of the edge of the pickaxe against his head, growling a little snarl toward the Maverick for the trouble as he steps away right on time for the blonde to shrug at him and start to follow, hoisting his own shovel on his shoulder and the bag he’s brought with secured in the other. And while they follow her toward the distant rumbling, Astaroth clears his throat and glances over toward Dantalion. “Do you know what she heard?”
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
