so what, my friend, whatever will it be?
i can give you what you crave, just not for free
i can give you what you crave, just not for free
It’s a fyrhund that makes most of the trek back to the Grounds, the portal ignored for sheer fact of needing time to think, the bag carried in a too sharp maw. Only when he’s shuffled through the door of the Dusklight do people realize who has arrived, giving him a wide berth and a long side look. Pointed to where Danta is, and once again he’s reminded he’s taken too long, that he could’ve taken the portal back when it was done, and goddamnit Asta you’re so fucking stupid.
The fyrhund stops outside the door, the bag dropping heavily, and he shifts back into himself, shirtless with shorts that have splotches of dried blood. Shirtless, because Flora had taken his shirt back with her. At least most of the blood is gone from his face when he raps his knuckles across the door. “Danta, I’m back. I am sorry it took so long. May I come in?” Comes the accented request from the other side of the door.
The taller Ancient sounds tired.
The fyrhund stops outside the door, the bag dropping heavily, and he shifts back into himself, shirtless with shorts that have splotches of dried blood. Shirtless, because Flora had taken his shirt back with her. At least most of the blood is gone from his face when he raps his knuckles across the door. “Danta, I’m back. I am sorry it took so long. May I come in?” Comes the accented request from the other side of the door.
The taller Ancient sounds tired.
Astaroth
you know what's on the line
