walk past a devil child

and you'll wake up all alone, on an old beat-down dirt country road
and you'll crawl back through fire and snow

Snorting to hear Danta’s response, it does shake him out of the momentary claustrophobia that has overtaken him in this drunken state. “I think you could, provided you had incentive.” He admits, back pressed against the wall letting the dappled light of the evening dance across the fire obsidian of his horns and his hair. “I look forward to it, darling.” And he does – a distraction for the moment while he starts to finally relax, knowing what to expect around them.

The cry of a hel, the soft murmur of people as they pass by, the dull thump of the music behind them. “Mm, I did come close.” He admits, though they both knew that already. It wasn’t a surprise when he’d snapped at that dancer that had the audacity to think he could get away with taking Danta away.

Tilting his head into the touch at his hair, his blinks slow for a few moments as he indulges, taking his slow and deep inhales, holding them in for a few practiced seconds before exhaling. “I do not like not knowing.” He admits ruefully, honey eyes blinking open to find Danta’s face. “What intentions people have.” Comes the clarification, the tug of a frown on the face that otherwise harbored a permanent smile.

Astaroth

'cause there ain't no other place to go