// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
“Someone would have found me.” Astaroth replies, with a surprising amount of certainty that it would have been sooner rather than later, even if he’s positive it would have done more harm than good and he’s quite grateful for Danta’s choice in following him.
The cart arrives and Asta’s maneuvered into leaning against it which he does diligently, bloodied hand gripping onto the wheel while his tail curls around his leg as if trying to make himself as small as possible.
When the blonde returns, Asta’s dark gaze seems to perk up a bit, nodding his head at the plan laid out, but before he can ask for the small vial of the water, he’s being ferried into the cart. And he absolutely uses every inch Danta gives him to climb into it, smearing more of his drying blood along the blonde’s shoulders and arm as he pushes himself up and settles into the cart with a heavy groan.
Hands tremble again as they start to prod at the damage inflicted, before those very same hands reach out to take the vial of water from the other man, but his hands shake a bit too much to be able to sip from the pouch with ease. It burns in a hint of shame as the hands fall into his lap and his dark gaze finds the other man as he utters a quiet “please,” because the last thing he wants to do is spill it.
The cart arrives and Asta’s maneuvered into leaning against it which he does diligently, bloodied hand gripping onto the wheel while his tail curls around his leg as if trying to make himself as small as possible.
When the blonde returns, Asta’s dark gaze seems to perk up a bit, nodding his head at the plan laid out, but before he can ask for the small vial of the water, he’s being ferried into the cart. And he absolutely uses every inch Danta gives him to climb into it, smearing more of his drying blood along the blonde’s shoulders and arm as he pushes himself up and settles into the cart with a heavy groan.
Hands tremble again as they start to prod at the damage inflicted, before those very same hands reach out to take the vial of water from the other man, but his hands shake a bit too much to be able to sip from the pouch with ease. It burns in a hint of shame as the hands fall into his lap and his dark gaze finds the other man as he utters a quiet “please,” because the last thing he wants to do is spill it.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
