you were destined for the glory, the honor and the fame
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name
She doesn’t have to worry about his lack of a glamour for too much longer as her laughter joins his. He’ll wonder later if the forest thinks there were a few rogue hyenas wandering about, but for now he’s quite content with how this evening had gone and its evident in the gleam in his gaze as she leans in close and rubs at her own eyes as they make their new deal or trade or threat. “Why not go with ‘all of the above?’” He flashes her another sharp grin, one that’s bright yet grows far more menacing as he drops his glamour and his horns unfurl and his tail whips around with his amusement beside him.
The fire is closer, though, and if he allows himself a moment to indulge, he certainly clings to the heat – reaching out to drag his greying fingers through the flame to warm them up, still snickering off and on as he thinks about the insanity of the past few minutes. “Yeah.” He agrees, still leaving his accent in full display for a little while longer as he shifts to stand and collect his cane, offering his hand for her to uncurl herself to stand while he expands the fire to warm their heads and their backs, creating an inferno of a blanket to keep the rain from getting through to them.
As they begin to walk, lightning continues to crack and groan across the sky, but the butcher pays it little mind. “Sit in front of the fire with a bit more of that bourbon, yes?” He asks as he inclines his head down toward her with a raise of his brow, the mischief glittering in his gaze once more.
The fire is closer, though, and if he allows himself a moment to indulge, he certainly clings to the heat – reaching out to drag his greying fingers through the flame to warm them up, still snickering off and on as he thinks about the insanity of the past few minutes. “Yeah.” He agrees, still leaving his accent in full display for a little while longer as he shifts to stand and collect his cane, offering his hand for her to uncurl herself to stand while he expands the fire to warm their heads and their backs, creating an inferno of a blanket to keep the rain from getting through to them.
As they begin to walk, lightning continues to crack and groan across the sky, but the butcher pays it little mind. “Sit in front of the fire with a bit more of that bourbon, yes?” He asks as he inclines his head down toward her with a raise of his brow, the mischief glittering in his gaze once more.
Astaroth
fate's been playing the long game on us, sweetheart
