// I wish I had a reason //
"The first time, in my office, when we came to an agreement and you shared a drink with me?" Danta shakes his head. "Let's not rewrite the past, Maea. We talked and things were fine. And then you pushed Asta to the edge at Jack Tar." However she might have felt outside of their conversations and all the tangled webs that were further knotted between their meetings, things had leapt from black to white in an instant for Danta.
And in the time since then - in all the ways he's changed, in the way he and Asta have become more to each other than he'd ever deemed possible - here Maea stands, exactly the same. An unmitigated hypocrite, an ass, and a fool. They might as well be repeating the conversation they'd had in the Temple all that time ago. The difference now, of course, is that he's not promised to behave himself.
"Saying all those things doesn't excuse you from them, you know. You have to change for it to sound anything other than self-indulgent." He scowls.
And there is one change at least - she agrees to fight him, and that alone has his eyebrows raising, Danta cocking his head to the side and subtly adjusting his stance. "I know," he says sharply, of how the fight had gone. "And a lot more than that besides."
She shifts into something pale and molten and deadly, and for a moment the Maverick has to consider his own actions. But some new and thrumming instinct purrs through his veins at the sight of the tigress, and it's with a roll of his shoulders that he follows suit. Unlike Maea's sleek, white form, Danta is a typical example of the shift, his orange paws digging into the soft earth, oozing something molten and metallic and black from his stripes.
Jaws opening to uncage a roar from his throat - one that has the surrounding wolves suddenly very free of wolves and any other wildlife, in fact, the Maverick wastes no time in launching himself at Maea.
And in the time since then - in all the ways he's changed, in the way he and Asta have become more to each other than he'd ever deemed possible - here Maea stands, exactly the same. An unmitigated hypocrite, an ass, and a fool. They might as well be repeating the conversation they'd had in the Temple all that time ago. The difference now, of course, is that he's not promised to behave himself.
"Saying all those things doesn't excuse you from them, you know. You have to change for it to sound anything other than self-indulgent." He scowls.
And there is one change at least - she agrees to fight him, and that alone has his eyebrows raising, Danta cocking his head to the side and subtly adjusting his stance. "I know," he says sharply, of how the fight had gone. "And a lot more than that besides."
She shifts into something pale and molten and deadly, and for a moment the Maverick has to consider his own actions. But some new and thrumming instinct purrs through his veins at the sight of the tigress, and it's with a roll of his shoulders that he follows suit. Unlike Maea's sleek, white form, Danta is a typical example of the shift, his orange paws digging into the soft earth, oozing something molten and metallic and black from his stripes.
Jaws opening to uncage a roar from his throat - one that has the surrounding wolves suddenly very free of wolves and any other wildlife, in fact, the Maverick wastes no time in launching himself at Maea.
Dantalion
// my flaws are open season //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
