// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
Perhaps it was a longshot to go and assume that he wouldn’t have any company. At any rate, he doesn’t notice the additional tones, the humming vocals, harmonious in how they match the ebb and flow of the tune that slips from his lips. At least, not until she speaks – to which Astaroth, lifting his horned head to let his dark gaze scan over toward her, taking in her appearance of leaning against the tree trunk and listens for her snarky quip – something that despite how little the two of them have interacted, he finds that it wouldn’t entirely be her without it.
Flashing that too sharp grin toward her as he plants the shovel again, his horned head tilts toward her. “There are no words for this particular tune, but if you would prefer a jaunty song from back in my day, I can offer it as a deal if you allow me to call you my dear.” That grin grows a bit sharper and wider, a playful quip of the butcher’s own offered toward her as he rests both of his hands on the handle of the shovel still stuck in the dirt, in the hole he’s got about halfway dug.
Flashing that too sharp grin toward her as he plants the shovel again, his horned head tilts toward her. “There are no words for this particular tune, but if you would prefer a jaunty song from back in my day, I can offer it as a deal if you allow me to call you my dear.” That grin grows a bit sharper and wider, a playful quip of the butcher’s own offered toward her as he rests both of his hands on the handle of the shovel still stuck in the dirt, in the hole he’s got about halfway dug.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
