[SE] kept us awake with wolves teeth

// light shines in the darkness //

It's with brows softly furrowed that Danta finally gains something of an understanding of the cannibal tribe of Whitebrim that Asta had grown up in, and though he nods his silent comprehension, his mind will return to this moment often in the coming hours and days. "Looks like that mindset came back to bite them in the end," he says eventually, his voice quiet in the suddenly diminished space between Asta's lips and his own. "Literally. If they'd favoured a little more teamwork, perhaps they wouldn't have ripped each other apart like that."

Not that Danta can talk; he and the butcher are proof enough of how long it has taken for the Maverick to put his trust in another person, and that had been a thorny road in itself. But they have done it, leaving those particular skeletons in the closet as much as they can, and it's with Asta's hushed laughter filling his ears that he slips his arms around the other man through his open shirt, fingers skating across his back beneath the decadent fabric.

"It's strange to think of you as a child," he admits with a soft scrunch of his nose. "Makes me want to find that sister of yours and snap her fingers, if she were alive here now. I wouldn't want to overstep, though. You deserve that honour, after all."

Dantalion

// and the darkness will never understand it //