electing strange perfections
in any stranger I choose
in any stranger I choose
"A healthy respect is probably a very good way of putting it," Danta agrees, grinning as Deimos rises to his feet and of course trailing over to where the Fae are failing practicing their aim. "And I suppose if anything was going to come of hitting the targets on these trees, the village would have suffered for it by now." He assumes. He hopes? Anyway.
Eyes widening, not just to see Deimos create the daggers from nothing but also to hit the target dead centre first time, Danta inhales a slow breath and beggars a knife from one of the stunned onlookers so he might try. "There is no need to show off," he drawls, turning to fling his own blade at the target painted onto the tree. He also manages to hit, though his own knife sinks somewhere into the middle ring - thoroughly average, if he's honest.
"Well, we can't all be the Sword," he laments with a chuckle. "Bet you can't do it again though." In fact, Danta fully bets he can. He just wants to see it.
Eyes widening, not just to see Deimos create the daggers from nothing but also to hit the target dead centre first time, Danta inhales a slow breath and beggars a knife from one of the stunned onlookers so he might try. "There is no need to show off," he drawls, turning to fling his own blade at the target painted onto the tree. He also manages to hit, though his own knife sinks somewhere into the middle ring - thoroughly average, if he's honest.
"Well, we can't all be the Sword," he laments with a chuckle. "Bet you can't do it again though." In fact, Danta fully bets he can. He just wants to see it.
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.
