// too many war wounds and not enough wars //
He doesn't expect the sorry to be the thing that has wisps of flame curling through the air around him, Danta huffing out a short sigh in an effort to keep the fire contained to the bowl flickering at his waist. "You are telling me," he says, "that the state of that man in the Dusklight right now is thanks to your version of good?" His fists clench, the Maverick biting at the inside of his cheek and turning back to the heat and light as if it might offer him more than Maea's explanations thus far have.
"Of all of us here in the Grounds, I thought he would have been safe with you," he says with a scoff. "Where was that gentleness you lord over us, Maea? He needed kindness and compassion and empathy, but instead he got you." For all the labels she's tarred them with, Danta thinks that perhaps the pale Ancient has succeeded in being more monstrous than they are by far, and if his words flay at her skin, good. He intends them to.
"And then you have the nerve to ask him to make you his responsibility? You're always sorry, Maea, but you never fucking change. At least you know what you get with the rest of us."
"Of all of us here in the Grounds, I thought he would have been safe with you," he says with a scoff. "Where was that gentleness you lord over us, Maea? He needed kindness and compassion and empathy, but instead he got you." For all the labels she's tarred them with, Danta thinks that perhaps the pale Ancient has succeeded in being more monstrous than they are by far, and if his words flay at her skin, good. He intends them to.
"And then you have the nerve to ask him to make you his responsibility? You're always sorry, Maea, but you never fucking change. At least you know what you get with the rest of us."
Dantalion
// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
