way the fuck out of dodge

// you've got a passion in those eyes //

Just as Asta is focused entirely on him, Danta's eyes rove over the butcher's limp arm, though he can't quite stop himself from leaning greedily into the warmth of his hand. Turning his head enough to kiss against his gloved fingers, he grumbles a mixture of pain and sympathy at the other man's admission. "All the better to get home quickly then, no?" he says.

Letting out a fluttery sigh as the butcher withdraws to straighten up, Danta reaches instinctively for his offered hand. "I'll manage," he assures him - which isn't his first mistake of the day, as it happens, but it is the latest. Closing his fingers around Asta's and drawing himself up as if to stand, the Maverick makes it roughly halfway before pain shrieks down the length of his spine, radiating out from what he imagines is a nasty blow to the back.

Releasing Asta before he risks dragging him down as well, Danta crumples back against the tree trunk with a rough cry of pain. "Fuck," he bites out. "...I could... I could be a wyrm for you to carry?" It's not a great idea - he'll burn through the butcher's clothes in moments - but it's better than the alternative.

Dantalion

// so aim it straight and true //