the evidence is on my body
but I never complain
but I never complain
(I was admittedly buzzed for this post and absolutely mistook camping for tents for whatever reason LMAO)
The pack is a thoughtful addition, one that would make this less difficult to stomach. That and the fact he isn’t tied down and has magic now also bolsters the idea that it was just one night, that he could manage it, that it wouldn’t be for multiple days on end of agonizing torture.
That he could do something about it if it came down to it.
“It will be worth it when it is over.” Comes the steadfast admission, like he’s positive that by doing this and receiving that charm, that he’d be a different man. At least, one that wouldn’t take out a chunk of his lovers arm for trying to be nice and help him through his nightmares.
Anyway, he’s too busy glaring at the spike and the rocks that harbor so much of his prior traumas that the butcher hardly hears Danta’s question when the Maverick arrives at his side. He nods numbly as the previous statement reaches his ears belatedly, before he flinches such a miniscule amount to feel Danta’s fingers, before relaxing almost immediately. “Sure.” Already his stomach warps and twists with the realization of where they are, but with a glance and a smile that does not reach his dark gaze, the butcher curves a touch inward toward himself and closes his eyes tightly and blocks his ears.
As Danta steps away and molds himself into his new shape, it brings the attention of the gore crows hidden away. He’d also find that being in the gore crow shift gives him quite the advantage to seeing just where the rest of the flock congregate. Within those hidey holes, dark heads with red beaded eyes lift, glancing at the butcher first before landing on Danta, confusion flaring briefly in the croaks and the underlying rhythm of meat! that reverberates through the flock.
And as one bold gore crow hops up and croaks its own warning to Danta, a much smaller fledgling joins the group, peering at the two Ancients. As it turns out, the space the butcher had meant to die, still was quite a vast nesting ground for this particular flock of gore crows. And they aren’t too pleased with having a gore crow they don’t know among them.
But, it does make sense for the added bit of aggression from the corvids, even centuries ago.
The pack is a thoughtful addition, one that would make this less difficult to stomach. That and the fact he isn’t tied down and has magic now also bolsters the idea that it was just one night, that he could manage it, that it wouldn’t be for multiple days on end of agonizing torture.
That he could do something about it if it came down to it.
“It will be worth it when it is over.” Comes the steadfast admission, like he’s positive that by doing this and receiving that charm, that he’d be a different man. At least, one that wouldn’t take out a chunk of his lovers arm for trying to be nice and help him through his nightmares.
Anyway, he’s too busy glaring at the spike and the rocks that harbor so much of his prior traumas that the butcher hardly hears Danta’s question when the Maverick arrives at his side. He nods numbly as the previous statement reaches his ears belatedly, before he flinches such a miniscule amount to feel Danta’s fingers, before relaxing almost immediately. “Sure.” Already his stomach warps and twists with the realization of where they are, but with a glance and a smile that does not reach his dark gaze, the butcher curves a touch inward toward himself and closes his eyes tightly and blocks his ears.
As Danta steps away and molds himself into his new shape, it brings the attention of the gore crows hidden away. He’d also find that being in the gore crow shift gives him quite the advantage to seeing just where the rest of the flock congregate. Within those hidey holes, dark heads with red beaded eyes lift, glancing at the butcher first before landing on Danta, confusion flaring briefly in the croaks and the underlying rhythm of meat! that reverberates through the flock.
And as one bold gore crow hops up and croaks its own warning to Danta, a much smaller fledgling joins the group, peering at the two Ancients. As it turns out, the space the butcher had meant to die, still was quite a vast nesting ground for this particular flock of gore crows. And they aren’t too pleased with having a gore crow they don’t know among them.
But, it does make sense for the added bit of aggression from the corvids, even centuries ago.
Astaroth
i wear it as a lesson, a curse, and a blessing
