Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
He has not satisfied his bloodlust yet, unfortunately, so it’s with an easy amount of care that he focuses on the orb as he slices his skin, curses out under his breath, before the stinging pain actually greets him in waves. Swiping the blade against the fabric of his pants to clean up the small streak of blood on it.
Lifting his attention to Danta, he flashes an easy smile that should be more relieving, if it weren’t for the way his hand shakes with the huge loss of health. “Just fine, darling.” He reassures the Maverick, before he looks over to Flora. Danta would see the deep slice and the blood bubbling from it precisely as Flora uncaps the canteen of water, spilling it over his arm as it knits together and he starts to relax, trying to loosen the tension in his shoulders.
It’s more frustrating that the orb appears to still be there, but as Flora suggests shifts, he glances to Danta, before turning his attention back to Flora as he runs a hand along the water soaked, healed arm. “I cannot watch Danta’s shift, but I will be happy to try before focusing my attention elsewhere.” Somewhere, anywhere, from where he could see the gore crow.
Shifting from man to fyrhund, the butcher focuses on the orb as smoke pours from his maw. Approaching it like a curious canine, tail sweeping low and head dropped low he inspects it before making any move. Claws rake out toward it before he pairs it with the fire from his shift, and whether or not it’s been effective or not, the butcher trots a bit further down the beach with his back to them, ears flattened toward the waves to avoid any other sounds that might set him off.
Astaroth shifts to his fyrhund shift, using his claws and fire on it! Then he trots down the beach out of earshot and looking distinctly away from them so he doesn’t have to see Danta’s shift.
Lifting his attention to Danta, he flashes an easy smile that should be more relieving, if it weren’t for the way his hand shakes with the huge loss of health. “Just fine, darling.” He reassures the Maverick, before he looks over to Flora. Danta would see the deep slice and the blood bubbling from it precisely as Flora uncaps the canteen of water, spilling it over his arm as it knits together and he starts to relax, trying to loosen the tension in his shoulders.
It’s more frustrating that the orb appears to still be there, but as Flora suggests shifts, he glances to Danta, before turning his attention back to Flora as he runs a hand along the water soaked, healed arm. “I cannot watch Danta’s shift, but I will be happy to try before focusing my attention elsewhere.” Somewhere, anywhere, from where he could see the gore crow.
Shifting from man to fyrhund, the butcher focuses on the orb as smoke pours from his maw. Approaching it like a curious canine, tail sweeping low and head dropped low he inspects it before making any move. Claws rake out toward it before he pairs it with the fire from his shift, and whether or not it’s been effective or not, the butcher trots a bit further down the beach with his back to them, ears flattened toward the waves to avoid any other sounds that might set him off.
Astaroth shifts to his fyrhund shift, using his claws and fire on it! Then he trots down the beach out of earshot and looking distinctly away from them so he doesn’t have to see Danta’s shift.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
