// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
It’s strange, to see the beak part and reach for him in a gentle manner, and inebriated enough to let her do it, he watches as her beak isn’t razor sharp or threatening to add to the scars that cover his entire torso, he’s nearly enamored with the idea, letting her try to preen a plain, boring old finger with nothing to preen. It’s with a surprising amount of the butcher being okay to let this happen – but also the vast differences he chants over and over in his head to witness the differences between this common enough crow and those from the Climb.
“Well… I am doing better than I thought I would, to be honest.” Astaroth hums softly, thinking about how Danta may not need to hide her as much or stress about it, at least until the question of holding her comes up and Astaroth’s attention immediately lifts to Danta with a near deer in the headlights look (punctuated by those anter-like horns that adorn his crown) and he shakes his head withdrawing to sit on his side again. “I am not ready for that yet.” He admits a bit wearily, but truthfully, eyes dropping back to the crow in the blonde’s arms.
“Well… I am doing better than I thought I would, to be honest.” Astaroth hums softly, thinking about how Danta may not need to hide her as much or stress about it, at least until the question of holding her comes up and Astaroth’s attention immediately lifts to Danta with a near deer in the headlights look (punctuated by those anter-like horns that adorn his crown) and he shakes his head withdrawing to sit on his side again. “I am not ready for that yet.” He admits a bit wearily, but truthfully, eyes dropping back to the crow in the blonde’s arms.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
