am i the wolf or the savior?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?
It is good, even as his eyes remain glued to the feathered companion, keeping that berth as they make the wide pass toward where the butcher can stand beside the door, an out made just in case it becomes too much. “Alright.” He says, without any pomp or formalities, without any pleasantries. It takes all of his focus, watching as she grooms his lover’s finger before she’s lowered down into a discarded shirt.
“Of course.” Asta remains standing, of course, for a little while at least. It’s easier to offer that boon to his rising heartbeat, but without the dread that will inevitably claw at him. Because while Moira did still frighten and bring anxiety, it was nothing compared to Danta’s shift. This is when that cold dread starts to grab, sinking its claws into his stomach as he grips the edge of the blanket and the bag a little bit tighter.
He reminds himself before his mind gets too carried away that while yes, these were the very beasts that made his skin crawl, that made the pain of those days flash to the forefront of his mind, that the gore crow at least loved him, and by extension, his companion. It’s that reminder that has him still there, tail flicking at his heels in awkward motions that betray his anxieties before he takes a long, slow and deep breath, and steps back against the wall to slide down it until he can sit.
“Of course.” Asta remains standing, of course, for a little while at least. It’s easier to offer that boon to his rising heartbeat, but without the dread that will inevitably claw at him. Because while Moira did still frighten and bring anxiety, it was nothing compared to Danta’s shift. This is when that cold dread starts to grab, sinking its claws into his stomach as he grips the edge of the blanket and the bag a little bit tighter.
He reminds himself before his mind gets too carried away that while yes, these were the very beasts that made his skin crawl, that made the pain of those days flash to the forefront of his mind, that the gore crow at least loved him, and by extension, his companion. It’s that reminder that has him still there, tail flicking at his heels in awkward motions that betray his anxieties before he takes a long, slow and deep breath, and steps back against the wall to slide down it until he can sit.
Astaroth
come a little closer
