// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
He works at the other arm as he listens, humming a thought regarding the skyships – having never heard of one crashing, but he hasn’t been here long enough to know whether or not it was a common occurrence. “Oh, perhaps?” He pauses in his sawing to consider it before he glances over at her as the grin starts to form again. There’s a momentary stop of his attention to the arm as he plucks another small piece of tendon from the man’s chest, devouring it down.
“That sounds incredible, truthfully.” His gaze lights up with all of the potential, wondering if something could be done just like that here, but ties may end up coming back to the Grounds should anything go awry or wrong. A thought to bring it up to Danta at some point crosses his mind. “I was often the one to corral groups that had ran off course in their travels toward the Climb.” Which had been difficult when he’d wanted nothing more than to tear into one but having to wait day after day until they made their great entrance into the heat of the Climb. Then, he was allowed, but the few times he had slipped early on, Astaroth had paid for it.
Shaking his head of the memory and pulling the arm from the body, he shifts a little to place it amongst the other, admiring the work they’ve done as he dips his hands into the still warm blood pooled into the man’s cavern like it were nothing more than a warm bowl of water. “It could work. Or… I have seen ones that you can safely keep strapped to a thigh?” More her style, perhaps, if she enjoyed wearing dresses and the like. He pauses to look up at her, running the blood through his fingers to see which direction she preferred.
“That sounds incredible, truthfully.” His gaze lights up with all of the potential, wondering if something could be done just like that here, but ties may end up coming back to the Grounds should anything go awry or wrong. A thought to bring it up to Danta at some point crosses his mind. “I was often the one to corral groups that had ran off course in their travels toward the Climb.” Which had been difficult when he’d wanted nothing more than to tear into one but having to wait day after day until they made their great entrance into the heat of the Climb. Then, he was allowed, but the few times he had slipped early on, Astaroth had paid for it.
Shaking his head of the memory and pulling the arm from the body, he shifts a little to place it amongst the other, admiring the work they’ve done as he dips his hands into the still warm blood pooled into the man’s cavern like it were nothing more than a warm bowl of water. “It could work. Or… I have seen ones that you can safely keep strapped to a thigh?” More her style, perhaps, if she enjoyed wearing dresses and the like. He pauses to look up at her, running the blood through his fingers to see which direction she preferred.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
