[SE] [Training] Lost Little Lamb

// I thought of angels choking on their halos //

The ramphire's panicked bleating - cut off though it might be by the sudden jaws around its throat - sounds... off, almost. If Thal listens closely enough she might realise it's because the sound is overlaid with a deep and guttural snarl, one that still seems to be echoing along the cavern walls after she's torn into the creature's jugular. It's the sort of noise that shouldn't belong to a man, and yet it's a man who comes barrelling into both ramphire and Ancient from the other end of the tunnel.

A man wearing nothing more than swimming shorts decorated with little angry sharks.

Fangs bared and horns glinting in the dim light, Danta scrabbles to try and steal his kill back from the stranger, teeth snapping at her face and also trying to tear into the ramphire, as if he might still stand a chance at sating his bloodlust on it. (Which, y'know, team effort? So maybe?)

Except in his opinion this other Ancient hasn't done anything to deserve going for its throat; the Maverick had done all the work, after all. Separating it from the herd, chasing it into Rae's fingers, corralling it into being uselessly, beautifully lost? That's all been him. It isn't like Danta isn't willing to share, but it's a matter of principle, no?

Dantalion

// get them drunk on rose water //