electing strange perfections
in any stranger I choose
in any stranger I choose
"My pleasure," Danta rumbles in response. Not you're welcome, because people rarely are, but at least between he and the Sword, and leader to leader especially, things like this are easily done. But his focus has swung towards the Fae and their antics, the Maverick's eyebrows also raising as he watches one of the daggers go flourishing off into the darkness (honestly, he's half convinced the group are drunk after the festival, so that might explain it too).
"Something like that," he drawls, amused as he tilts his head towards the woods as if hopeful that he'll hear an answering scream where the knife had hit something, even if it's not its mark. "Do you want to go and show them how it's done, or are you also worried that the woods might punish you for it?" Danta has what he considers a healthy suspicion of the Greatwood and its seemingly sentient trees, though it won't stop any shenanigans when it comes to throwing knives.
"Something like that," he drawls, amused as he tilts his head towards the woods as if hopeful that he'll hear an answering scream where the knife had hit something, even if it's not its mark. "Do you want to go and show them how it's done, or are you also worried that the woods might punish you for it?" Danta has what he considers a healthy suspicion of the Greatwood and its seemingly sentient trees, though it won't stop any shenanigans when it comes to throwing knives.
Dantalion
you knew who I was
with every step that I ran to you
with every step that I ran to you
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
