// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
It’s the tapping of the steel in the boots that give away the fact that Danta is approaching – because the butcher inherently knows the cadence of his walk, the unique taps of each footfall, allowing him to turn precisely at the time the butcher steps up to his side. Taking in the opposite color scheme, the tight pants and the loose and sheer crimson shirt (his usual color, might he add), he’s flashing that same grin toward him in greeting but it seems to be tinged with something else. Awe.
“You look beautiful.” He hums before he has a chance to think over what he says, even if his chin ducks a touch sheepishly to have it said so boldly out in public. Not that he should care, but, it still feels… Strange. New. Like bringing attention to it is like staring down a wild bird, spooking it away into the underbrush.
Offering out his arm for the Maverick, Astaroth flashes a brighter grin now, and the second that Danta takes his arm, he’s already beginning to move along the path well worn and familiar by now, to a very stylish boutique along the main stretch of the Last Whisper. “Have you thought of the styles you might torment me with?” He asks, turning his dark gaze down toward the other Ancient with a deep whisper of a laugh.
“You look beautiful.” He hums before he has a chance to think over what he says, even if his chin ducks a touch sheepishly to have it said so boldly out in public. Not that he should care, but, it still feels… Strange. New. Like bringing attention to it is like staring down a wild bird, spooking it away into the underbrush.
Offering out his arm for the Maverick, Astaroth flashes a brighter grin now, and the second that Danta takes his arm, he’s already beginning to move along the path well worn and familiar by now, to a very stylish boutique along the main stretch of the Last Whisper. “Have you thought of the styles you might torment me with?” He asks, turning his dark gaze down toward the other Ancient with a deep whisper of a laugh.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
