// smile like you mean it //
Her quip about herself does have a bark of a laugh leaving the butcher with a hint of surprise. The joke is one that lingers, leaving his grin full and amused. “Oh? Are those all of her requirements?” He asks, as if this mock conversation was one that still didn’t have Thalassa in it, talking about her rather than to her, the amusement remains.
The mention of the mirror falling out of a pretty blonde wig, the butcher’s long strides slow, twisting slightly to peer back at Thal with the shell with a raise of his brow and a smirk. “There are many pretty blondes about.” He hums, because if it wasn’t obvious to Thalassa, the butcher has always had a type. But as she continues, his low rumble of a laugh appears again, tail wagging playfully like a fyrhund’s might.
“Mm, I see. I should have recognized it, then.” Tapping his long fingers on the buttons of his waistcoat, there’s the internal grimace, before he flashes her a small smirk, bypassing it for a bit of a lore drop. “You gifted me a pocket mirror that my ex-girlfriend lost.” He hums with all kinds of dramatics, dark eyes squinting toward her in his peripheral as if he might be able to gauge her reaction without being so apparent as to stare.
Even if his and Flora’s relationship hadn’t lasted that long and hadn’t been fully invested in on the butcher’s side (and his constant obliviousness), it didn’t deny the fact that he and Flora had dated for a time. However short it was.
The mention of the mirror falling out of a pretty blonde wig, the butcher’s long strides slow, twisting slightly to peer back at Thal with the shell with a raise of his brow and a smirk. “There are many pretty blondes about.” He hums, because if it wasn’t obvious to Thalassa, the butcher has always had a type. But as she continues, his low rumble of a laugh appears again, tail wagging playfully like a fyrhund’s might.
“Mm, I see. I should have recognized it, then.” Tapping his long fingers on the buttons of his waistcoat, there’s the internal grimace, before he flashes her a small smirk, bypassing it for a bit of a lore drop. “You gifted me a pocket mirror that my ex-girlfriend lost.” He hums with all kinds of dramatics, dark eyes squinting toward her in his peripheral as if he might be able to gauge her reaction without being so apparent as to stare.
Even if his and Flora’s relationship hadn’t lasted that long and hadn’t been fully invested in on the butcher’s side (and his constant obliviousness), it didn’t deny the fact that he and Flora had dated for a time. However short it was.
Astaroth
// take a chance and you could seize it //
