the evidence is on my body
but I never complain
but I never complain
His dark gaze scans Danta’s face first, as if trusting that it’s the only thing that will prove to him it’s not still just an awful nightmare. And it works, for the most part, when he doesn’t flinch to feel Danta’s fingertips trail along his jaw and cheek. It’s inherent trust that brings him to twist a little to spot the sky as the shield of fire lowers, as the area around them is blissfully silent. The air is cooler then it had been in the dome, and it almost feels like a rebirth of sorts.
Releasing Danta so that he can stretch, the butcher rolls over to face the edge of the rock, to take in the sun rising over the crust of the Climb as if it were some kind of fever dream – or perhaps he’s still exhausted and a touch in some shock. It’s with a shaky breath that he inhales that he sits himself up slowly, wincing at the pain in his palm as he uses it for the brunt of his weight, lifting it immediately to inspect. “I would love to leave as soon as possible.” He confirms, pushing through any thoughts he might linger on in this moment in lieu of getting the fuck out of here.
He still seems awkward, shut off, like he hasn’t fully grasped everything just yet. But he straightens his shirt, and slowly gets to his feet. Loosening his glamour, his horns and tail unfurl into existence again, and the butcher rises, immediately moving to roll up the bedroll and whatever else Danta needs, silently like a machine, so they can get out of here as quickly as possible.
Releasing Danta so that he can stretch, the butcher rolls over to face the edge of the rock, to take in the sun rising over the crust of the Climb as if it were some kind of fever dream – or perhaps he’s still exhausted and a touch in some shock. It’s with a shaky breath that he inhales that he sits himself up slowly, wincing at the pain in his palm as he uses it for the brunt of his weight, lifting it immediately to inspect. “I would love to leave as soon as possible.” He confirms, pushing through any thoughts he might linger on in this moment in lieu of getting the fuck out of here.
He still seems awkward, shut off, like he hasn’t fully grasped everything just yet. But he straightens his shirt, and slowly gets to his feet. Loosening his glamour, his horns and tail unfurl into existence again, and the butcher rises, immediately moving to roll up the bedroll and whatever else Danta needs, silently like a machine, so they can get out of here as quickly as possible.
Astaroth
i wear it as a lesson, a curse, and a blessing
