light the match to taste the heat

I used to hold your haunted neck; I know I'll miss you if I close my eyes

Eventually isn't good enough, is what Danta wants to say, between scolding Asta for almost cutting himself to the bone over a bug whilst out and in the middle of fucking nowhere. But he manages to keep the words bitten behind his teeth, inhaling deeply and letting it out again and about to pull his hands away when one of the butcher's comes up to cover his own. "Right," he murmurs, knowing, of course, what it is to not be in a good headspace but simultaneously at a loss as to what to do.

"Right," he says again, glancing back into the undergrowth as if expecting to see the Void Horror lumbering after them still. When it doesn't, he returns his attention to Astaroth. "What... what will make this better?" It's not quite the same as saying is there anything I can do, but gods if it isn't almost there. "Do you want to go hurt something? Or talk about it? Or...?"

Dantalion