// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
“I know.” Astaroth says immediately, jaw working slightly before he manages to tear his gaze away – however briefly – to look up at Danta. “I will tell you.” It’s a quiet vow punctuated by the shakiness of his voice and how his eyes immediately drop back down to the companion in his hands. She’s still ruffled, but he can tell the difference this close between the much larger, gorier cousins, and how sharp and pointed her beak is in comparison to the broad, larger beak of the Climb’s gore crows.
The clack of the beak is a nice touch, though, and while he remains mostly closed off, he adjusts enough as Danta comes to sit on the opposite side of the desk, watchful as the crow gets more comfortable (and without the proverbial death grip Danta seems to have had on her initially, he finds he can understand her upset). Danta’s comment has a small smile managing to ghost on his face, his heartbeat starting to smooth out just a fraction to where he feels like he can be more understanding, (it’s likely the alcohol on board too, making it less difficult to manage). “This is okay so far.” And he means it, surprisingly enough, that even while he keeps that hawk focus on the corvid, Asta withdraws a second to open a drawer in the desk. “I know gore crows.. prefer meat, does she?” He asks, wondering if perhaps a realization that it isn’t entirely what she eats might help soothe some of his other stressors surrounding the companion, he rummages in the drawer for a moment before withdrawing a handful of peanuts, sucking in a sharp breath, and reaches out far enough toward Danta’s side to drop the handful before withdrawing his hand surprisingly quickly back to his own side, watching and waiting.
The clack of the beak is a nice touch, though, and while he remains mostly closed off, he adjusts enough as Danta comes to sit on the opposite side of the desk, watchful as the crow gets more comfortable (and without the proverbial death grip Danta seems to have had on her initially, he finds he can understand her upset). Danta’s comment has a small smile managing to ghost on his face, his heartbeat starting to smooth out just a fraction to where he feels like he can be more understanding, (it’s likely the alcohol on board too, making it less difficult to manage). “This is okay so far.” And he means it, surprisingly enough, that even while he keeps that hawk focus on the corvid, Asta withdraws a second to open a drawer in the desk. “I know gore crows.. prefer meat, does she?” He asks, wondering if perhaps a realization that it isn’t entirely what she eats might help soothe some of his other stressors surrounding the companion, he rummages in the drawer for a moment before withdrawing a handful of peanuts, sucking in a sharp breath, and reaches out far enough toward Danta’s side to drop the handful before withdrawing his hand surprisingly quickly back to his own side, watching and waiting.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
