// no sudden moves, don't make a sound
they're out for blood this time around //
they're out for blood this time around //
He despises the Crust. He always has. It’s his least favorite subsection of the Climb specifically because it harbored Angel’s End. It’s also his least favorite because it has the majority of the population of gore crows in its midst. Obviously the corvids can also be found deep below, but up here? Multitudes of nests and the open sky met them.
A perfect place to spread one’s wings if they were avian in nature. Of which, Astaroth is absolutely not.
But here he sits, looking worse and worse as the days drag on, waiting for Thalassa’s imminent arrival. The butcher is fidgety, twitchy and generally uncomfortable, with an attire that isn’t exactly the fine fabrics he traditionally wore. He’s dressed down, a loose shirt worn to be a touch baggy around his shoulders, still tucked into his pants at the very least. His tail whips like an upset felines as he spins the threaded cane against the lip of the jut of lava rock he’s standing beside, unsure whether or not she wished to practice magic or weaponry — so he’d brought both. An almost manic preparation of his magic, and a variety of weapons hidden on his person while the cane stole the show.
Half was for the training and half was for the peace of mind in regards to the crows, hoping that the sooner he gets done with this the sooner he can obtain the charm and actually get a good night’s sleep.
A perfect place to spread one’s wings if they were avian in nature. Of which, Astaroth is absolutely not.
But here he sits, looking worse and worse as the days drag on, waiting for Thalassa’s imminent arrival. The butcher is fidgety, twitchy and generally uncomfortable, with an attire that isn’t exactly the fine fabrics he traditionally wore. He’s dressed down, a loose shirt worn to be a touch baggy around his shoulders, still tucked into his pants at the very least. His tail whips like an upset felines as he spins the threaded cane against the lip of the jut of lava rock he’s standing beside, unsure whether or not she wished to practice magic or weaponry — so he’d brought both. An almost manic preparation of his magic, and a variety of weapons hidden on his person while the cane stole the show.
Half was for the training and half was for the peace of mind in regards to the crows, hoping that the sooner he gets done with this the sooner he can obtain the charm and actually get a good night’s sleep.
Astaroth
