bang bang bang

idealism sits in prison
chivalry fell on his sword

"That's good," Danta murmurs with a tentative smile, having been expecting anything from this all the way to Asta burying himself in their den as a fyrhund. So far so good, though, and as they inch around each other into the room - leaving the butcher at the door and he and his companion at the opposite wall - the Maverick slowly lets his hand drop. "I imagine she wouldn't be opposed once she's woken up a little more."

Smirking and tickling at the downy feathers beneath Moira's beak, the corvid turns to nibble and groom at his finger, perfectly content to be settled down on the ground amid one of Danta's discarded shirts. The Maverick, in the meantime, rolls his shoulders and glances back to the other man. "Thanks again, for this. Just leave whenever you need to, if it gets too much."

Then, before he can change his mind, Danta is slipping into his own shift, exchanging fair hair and pale skin for glossy black feathers, the gore crow appearing rather innocuously beside his smaller counterpart, not that Moira notices or cares that her bonded is larger than she is. (She's a bully to him, Danta would say if he were able).

Dantalion

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door