// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
Flashing her that same sharp smile, he inclines his horned head a little – the flickering flames extending out the shadow of his pronged horns on the wall behind him, elongating them in spidery shapes. “I agree.” He muses, by means of becoming a bit stronger since the last time she’d seen him – stronger fire magic and such, to be exact. For now, though, he is his old self, if not for the stitching that appears when he rolls his sleeves up to get to work – a slice clear down his arm, mostly healed, but with stitches to keep it held together while it does. It’s likely it’ll scar, but the butcher doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
“It’s incredible the things clear heads can accomplish, is it not?” He asks, before he nods gently in agreement nonetheless. “You did press quite a few buttons on our dear Theocrat. I am glad that things feel better between you two.” And he was, truthfully. “Charlie has been a breath of fresh air for us all, it seems.” Himself included, unable to keep from being drawn to her golden retriever energy and the information of how things were once upon a time for them. It drew him in like a moth to flame.
Either way, he collects his bag and moves toward the bowl where the sharp edge of the ruby sits where blood has dried amongst the gemstone, and he stands on the opposite side of it – like a dark priest as he begins to withdraw his trinket – a carefully crafted bone nest with ramphire feathers and the long since beating heart of a creature nestled in the middle (a replica of the one left in the obsidian cathedral). “If you would like to give Dygra an offering as well, you may.” It wouldn’t affect his, and he doesn’t mind if she would like to participate in it as well.
“It’s incredible the things clear heads can accomplish, is it not?” He asks, before he nods gently in agreement nonetheless. “You did press quite a few buttons on our dear Theocrat. I am glad that things feel better between you two.” And he was, truthfully. “Charlie has been a breath of fresh air for us all, it seems.” Himself included, unable to keep from being drawn to her golden retriever energy and the information of how things were once upon a time for them. It drew him in like a moth to flame.
Either way, he collects his bag and moves toward the bowl where the sharp edge of the ruby sits where blood has dried amongst the gemstone, and he stands on the opposite side of it – like a dark priest as he begins to withdraw his trinket – a carefully crafted bone nest with ramphire feathers and the long since beating heart of a creature nestled in the middle (a replica of the one left in the obsidian cathedral). “If you would like to give Dygra an offering as well, you may.” It wouldn’t affect his, and he doesn’t mind if she would like to participate in it as well.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
