go home, lie down, decompose

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

"Me neither," Danta confesses of the half finished cinderscourge. "One day, maybe. If we ever do encounter one, we can compare it to my masterpiece here." Because obviously once he finishes making it, it's going to be a beautiful (and accurate) representation of the bird of prey, and no one can say otherwise. No one present, at least, since neither of them knows what they really look like.

Returning to his folding of the paper, progress is just as slow as it had been before, especially as Asta raises the pickaxe and gets back to work on the ore. All Danta is missing is a cocktail, a pair of sunglasses, and a nice pool to lounge beside, and it would be a perfect scene for ogling. "I'm very glad to hear it. You don't give yourself enough credit." Granted, the Maverick is incredibly biased, and by the time Asta is finished with the iron, he's gathering up the rest of his paper and rising to his feet.

"Copper, or bronze?" he asks. "I'm afraid copper might end up giving it a greenish hue, no?" Unless that's the look Asta is going for. Either way, he intends to leave the completed cinderscourge here along with the two ROUS flanking it, and he gives Asta's ass a playful fondle on the way past for good measure.

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //