hold you to the light, let you shine

in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue

"Yes, I can rather see that," Danta croons, tilting his head and stepping aside somewhat as the stag is forcefully led into the shrine area. He raises his eyebrows, surprised that Asta has chosen to lead something wild into so domestic a space (comparatively when one considers the woods and forests, of course), until the butcher explains himself. The Maverick is already eyeing the creature, as if able to smell the adrenaline rolling off it, the fear in its blood, and he keeps himself leashed - barely.

"I'm confident I can manage that," he agrees, his voice barely a whisper as he ghosts around Asta and the stag, as if prowling towards his prey. Not that it has anywhere to go - and some might consider it cruel, he supposes, to have an animal led in for laughter. But for Danta, it's neither cruel nor unfair nor unnecessary. It just is.

Letting his fingertips walk across Asta's shoulders, barely grazing him, the Maverick is drawing away again soon enough. "I'm afraid I didn't bring anything other than my teeth," he purrs. "...But if you like, I do have something new up my sleeve I can show you. You'd be better off standing by the door for it."

Dantalion