laps up the vice like a wolf in the night

so what, my friend, whatever will it be?
i can give you what you crave, just not for free

“I know, Danta.” He says on a whisper, jaw locking tight, teeth clicking together. What he doesn’t expect is for Danta to start cleaning away the ash and blood on him first, the hot water melting away residual ointment Flora had used, the scent of clove and cinnamon reignited briefly. He reaches up to take the cloth from Danta’s hand, dipping it in the hot water and rising to clean up his face, his dark gaze shadowed and already apologetic.

“She used her compass. She was fine, just, I don’t know. Disappointed? She went to the healing fountain as far as I am aware.” The tears that fell from Flora’s eyes sear into his mind briefly, his jaw working. “She had a specific plan, which I ruined as per usual. I bit her shoulder and surprised her and she dropped the tide jaguar on my stomach.” And he remembers the realization, the coming to, the sudden realization with the tear in her shoulder. “I stopped, of course, I realized the mistake I made. She wanted to recover the situation but I had already gotten out of the mindset. I politely declined.” Which had been devastating for her, as it turned out, but Danta would know that the mood was a fickle thing for the butcher in the first place, and to try and recover it meant that it would essentially be an entire thing.

And that’s not even to say it would work despite the attempts.

Astaroth

you know what's on the line