// we haven't won, and if we win, //
He fully does intend on sleeping well, with the scent of sage and citrus underlining the almond, shea, hints of wintergreen flaring up now and then. It drags him under almost as swiftly as the warm press of Danta’s back meets his scarred front. But, luckily (or unluckily) for them, the butcher doesn’t sleep too deep tonight.
There’s no dreams, but the peaceful black bliss of sleep that he wakes from when he feels Danta jolt. Blinking awake blearily with the muzzle fastened perfectly in place and no panic to get it off, there’s just the sudden awkwardness of Danta being so horribly still that he knows something’s off.
But what, he can’t really tell.
So he shifts, releasing Danta slightly to prop himself up on his good arm, looking him over for a moment. “Darling?” He asks in a quiet whisper, enough that his accent folds over the words, hoarse and gravelly from sleep. “Is everything alright?” It’s still quiet just in case Danta’s sleeping, not wanting to wake him up as he takes a moment to ensure the muzzle is on and he hasn’t magically done some amount of damage despite feeling it there.
There’s no dreams, but the peaceful black bliss of sleep that he wakes from when he feels Danta jolt. Blinking awake blearily with the muzzle fastened perfectly in place and no panic to get it off, there’s just the sudden awkwardness of Danta being so horribly still that he knows something’s off.
But what, he can’t really tell.
So he shifts, releasing Danta slightly to prop himself up on his good arm, looking him over for a moment. “Darling?” He asks in a quiet whisper, enough that his accent folds over the words, hoarse and gravelly from sleep. “Is everything alright?” It’s still quiet just in case Danta’s sleeping, not wanting to wake him up as he takes a moment to ensure the muzzle is on and he hasn’t magically done some amount of damage despite feeling it there.
Astaroth
// and if the morning light sets in, we've cheated fate again //
