mississippi boys, inner city boys

you were destined for the glory, the honor and the fame
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name

A scout who tracked and guided, nothing more than the useful herding dog as it so happened. But it had worked, and he had been great at it. At least until he’d come back home only to find his own clan had turned on each other in the time he’d been gone. Because of course, people had realized what was happening and had stopped taking that direct route, so his stretch had to reach farther. And even still, less and less food as the days dragged on.

And that was when he’d left — harboring zero attachment to the place that raised him, craving a change of scenery. “I already do that, darling.” Not to the scale Danta is thinking, but he has gone out and caught some troublemakers before having a chance to flee. Others he’s trapped within the confines of the jails, convinced the guards he’d handle them; and well… when they weren’t found, it made paperwork easy.

Pressing another soft kiss to the blonde’s thumb, he hums a thoughtful note. “There likely isn’t much left. Apparently it has all been wiped out. Though I met a cultist a while ago from there, too, they’d lost many of the customs my clan had.” No sharp teeth, no real boundaries that made them so feared. “It seemed more feral and tame at the same time. Does that make sense?” He asks, blinking as the question comes into his mind.

But another takes the forefront. “What was it like for you? Aside from she-who-I-shall-not-name for fear of ruining a nice evening.” He knows the mainstays, of course, but to be born Ancient? Still surrounded by people like you for the majority of your life?

Astaroth

fate's been playing the long game on us, sweetheart