laps up the vice like a wolf in the night

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

Things are how they had once been, and in more ways than Asta might expect, though it depends on how much the butcher is paying attention as to whether he notices the feral way Danta snaps after the beads of blood against the other man's shoulder. Like a man starved, the Maverick cares little for himself if it means getting more of what he craves, and so he's paying little attention as Asta shoves and trips him.

Snarling something under his breath and clawing at the air as fire sparks in his eyes, Danta goes down hard, but he's already twisting to try and grab at the butcher's ankle. If he's able to get any sort of grip on it he'll twist for all he's worth, aiming to snap the fragile bones and cartilage entirely. Whatever gets Asta down and easier to pin.

Dantalion