in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
"Or covered in salt, I suppose," Danta says with a wrinkle of his nose, not that he is interested in the slightest in how one would manage to preserve food if needed. (And yes, for a man left starving, he's still a remarkably picky eater when it isn't hunted down and raw). It at least explains his laughter in the face of Asta's dramatics, the Maverick shaking his head and not trying to understand the butcher's preferences, nostalgic or otherwise.
Inclining his head to the worker that opens the door for them before leaning in towards Asta to hear his question, Danta considers for a moment before nodding towards the corridor that would lead to the butcher's room. "Yours," he decides, for reasons that likely make sense only to him. Either way, it's without, for once, ordering any wine to bring with them that he's already making his way towards Asta's door, lingering outside and waiting for him to let them into the familiar warmth and privacy.
Inclining his head to the worker that opens the door for them before leaning in towards Asta to hear his question, Danta considers for a moment before nodding towards the corridor that would lead to the butcher's room. "Yours," he decides, for reasons that likely make sense only to him. Either way, it's without, for once, ordering any wine to bring with them that he's already making his way towards Asta's door, lingering outside and waiting for him to let them into the familiar warmth and privacy.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
