reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
Of all things the butcher has been called, a saint is most certainly not one of them. So surprised as he is, he tilts his head toward the Maverick in a hint of confusion and surprise, before he shakes it off and heaves another little exasperated sigh. At least he’s moving now, arms dropping from being held across his chest as he moves to step past the Maverick, only to hear and also feel the smack to his backside. His tail thrashes for a second and he pauses in his surprise. “I would like a hand.” Especially because of that.
Danta would have to work too.
He waits for the blonde to get to the front of the cart, before he begins to push from his side. Without the weight and with the help of the blonde Ancient, it moves easier than it had, and the burrows easily come into view. “There are only a few more things left for the shrine after this.” Astaroth informs him, continuing to push toward the portal.
Danta would have to work too.
He waits for the blonde to get to the front of the cart, before he begins to push from his side. Without the weight and with the help of the blonde Ancient, it moves easier than it had, and the burrows easily come into view. “There are only a few more things left for the shrine after this.” Astaroth informs him, continuing to push toward the portal.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
