// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
He knows how companions work, and he knows full well the implications of such a bond – how neither gets a choice in the matter – that isn’t what he’s upset about, though. He can’t even really put his finger on what he’s upset about, he just is. Nose still wrinkled, he tries to ignore the sound of the corvid scouting for bugs on the windowsill, the brief indicator of a beak scraping against glass.
The butcher meets Danta’s sharp gaze with a sharp one of his own, hearing the scoff which only brings more anger with the words said, because holy shit what an overreaction they’re both having, but the snowball is rolling and growing larger and he, too, can’t stop it (maybe it’s also the rum?) “You do not have to show me her? You could have stopped in and said hello Asta, I have a companion now and it’s a crow, but I’ll try to keep her away from you so you don’t get like this??” His voice pitches, taking on a tone similarly to the Maverick’s, before he shakes his head and moves to stand – where he intends to go, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that he can’t sit still.
The butcher meets Danta’s sharp gaze with a sharp one of his own, hearing the scoff which only brings more anger with the words said, because holy shit what an overreaction they’re both having, but the snowball is rolling and growing larger and he, too, can’t stop it (maybe it’s also the rum?) “You do not have to show me her? You could have stopped in and said hello Asta, I have a companion now and it’s a crow, but I’ll try to keep her away from you so you don’t get like this??” His voice pitches, taking on a tone similarly to the Maverick’s, before he shakes his head and moves to stand – where he intends to go, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that he can’t sit still.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
