// i am the righteous hand of god //
Astaroth has done a very good job of not thinking about the way it had sounded, the blinding searing pain as it collided with his body, the whimper of his fyrhund shift as it went soaring past into a heap by its complex root structure. And he fully intends on trying to keep it that way — not wanting to taint the fact he was still alive by another goddess’ doing, tea seems like the next best thing to focus on.
It has the unfortunate side effect of the Maverick departing his embrace, though, so as Danta sits up and starts preparing the tea, the butcher slowly peels himself up as well, running hands through his hair to rid him of any lingering feathers, watching as a few of them float down to the surface of the bed.
Only then does he get up, joining the Theocrat on the sofa, far less curled up in the way he leans back, arm draped against the back where Danta sits, his head tilting curiously toward him. “They usually do.” He reassures him gently, his tail flicking up to brush gently against the other Ancient’s leg. “Are you hungry? Can I procure something for us?” He asks, head tilting slightly as his dark gaze scans Danta, a touch calculating.
It has the unfortunate side effect of the Maverick departing his embrace, though, so as Danta sits up and starts preparing the tea, the butcher slowly peels himself up as well, running hands through his hair to rid him of any lingering feathers, watching as a few of them float down to the surface of the bed.
Only then does he get up, joining the Theocrat on the sofa, far less curled up in the way he leans back, arm draped against the back where Danta sits, his head tilting curiously toward him. “They usually do.” He reassures him gently, his tail flicking up to brush gently against the other Ancient’s leg. “Are you hungry? Can I procure something for us?” He asks, head tilting slightly as his dark gaze scans Danta, a touch calculating.
Astaroth
// i am the devil that you forgot //
