the evidence is on my body
but I never complain
but I never complain
“Mm, even closed off I am sure that people do require variety now and then. It keeps everything interesting, no?” He teases as he’s distracted by the luxere in the snow – drifting closer to the pile of it to melt it away, scanning the creature for whatever had caused its untimely demise along with the best way to collect said antlers. His horned head tilts curiously, and he’s surprised when Niki joins him in the investigation – though he isn’t displeased by it.
Least of all for the offer of help with the perfect place to snap the antlers off. Nodding, he sets his threaded cane down amongst the snow and kneels, melting away more snow when he reaches for the cold antlers. “I do collect them. Antlers tend to be a favorite of mine.” He admits, flashing a too sharp grin over toward Niki as he gestures with a hand to the dark crown of them he boasts himself. Both hands latching onto the antlers now, careful to not slice his hands on the sharp tines, he makes quick work of snapping them off. A loud series of crack! echoes through the woods and he collects them both in one hand before he draws back up to his full height, brushing off the snow from his legs before he collects his cane again.
Peering down at the rest of them, the butcher’s head tilts slightly. “It appears as if this luxere was ill. Perhaps the others were too, and traveling from the same source of infection?” He muses, lifting the end of the bladed cane to nudge the sparrow curiously, a small temporary frown replacing his traditional smile.
Least of all for the offer of help with the perfect place to snap the antlers off. Nodding, he sets his threaded cane down amongst the snow and kneels, melting away more snow when he reaches for the cold antlers. “I do collect them. Antlers tend to be a favorite of mine.” He admits, flashing a too sharp grin over toward Niki as he gestures with a hand to the dark crown of them he boasts himself. Both hands latching onto the antlers now, careful to not slice his hands on the sharp tines, he makes quick work of snapping them off. A loud series of crack! echoes through the woods and he collects them both in one hand before he draws back up to his full height, brushing off the snow from his legs before he collects his cane again.
Peering down at the rest of them, the butcher’s head tilts slightly. “It appears as if this luxere was ill. Perhaps the others were too, and traveling from the same source of infection?” He muses, lifting the end of the bladed cane to nudge the sparrow curiously, a small temporary frown replacing his traditional smile.
Astaroth
i wear it as a lesson, a curse, and a blessing
