Astaroth
// i ride the edge, my speed goes in the red //
The sorry doesn’t do much for the butcher, not as he had gotten so used to the quiet and the hope that he could lick his wounds alone. Instead, he doesn’t even get the chance to as the sudden sensation of bloodboon burns through him, soothing his throat but igniting another fury deep within him. Despite the soreness still remaining in the rest of his body, Astaroth’s jaw tightens again an impossible amount to where it feels like his sharp, pointed teeth are groaning against one another, before he manages to find the energy in him to stand.
It’s a shuffling sound, and she appears to have given up. Dark, shadowed eyes scan her prone form and he hisses out a sound of more fury, not thanking her for the unwanted healing, nor for the option to in fact give in. He was a monster, yes, but even he has standards.
Standards that have him not even saying a single word to her, before he turns on his heel and truly does vanish into the undergrowth, a slow trek back toward the Inner Quarter where he can be truly alone to deal with his rampaging thoughts and his temper.
- FIN!
It’s a shuffling sound, and she appears to have given up. Dark, shadowed eyes scan her prone form and he hisses out a sound of more fury, not thanking her for the unwanted healing, nor for the option to in fact give in. He was a monster, yes, but even he has standards.
Standards that have him not even saying a single word to her, before he turns on his heel and truly does vanish into the undergrowth, a slow trek back toward the Inner Quarter where he can be truly alone to deal with his rampaging thoughts and his temper.
- FIN!
// hot blood, these veins, my pleasure is their pain //
