// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //
“If there is one thing we are good at, it is that, no?” He asks, raising his brow toward Danta and flashes a shark-tooth grin with the bone peeking out between the edges of his canine and the other sharp point of teeth. It fades into a bit of a brighter hum of a laugh as he’s elbowed - gratefully in the space there’s no wound. “Hey now.” Comes the gentle chastising, the butcher sighing dramatically as the eatery comes into view.
Peeking over at his lover and plucking the bone from between his teeth, he leans in a little closer. “What fun is eating crab if you do not get to crack the shells?” He asks, as if it’s some grand conspiracy. Needless to say, if the butcher indulges in crab, it’s precisely with the thought of cracking the shell to retrieve it.
Settling into the seat of the outside table, sunk into the shade of the afternoon, the butcher’s attention flits back toward Danta with a smaller smile, hesitating as if he’s been caught trying to hide. Which, y’know, he has been. “Mm, well.” Puffing out his cheeks, the butcher reclines in the seat a touch and stretches out his long legs, knocking a knee into Danta’s in the process, slouching with a sigh. “I realize that Thal is… Infected. But, I do hope that she made it out okay from the fight.” And that man that had gone to attack her might have had a moment of realization that she might be able to be saved rather than attacked in the moment.
But, Asta doesn’t know Noah’s name. What he does know and will remember, is the Forsaken’s face.
Peeking over at his lover and plucking the bone from between his teeth, he leans in a little closer. “What fun is eating crab if you do not get to crack the shells?” He asks, as if it’s some grand conspiracy. Needless to say, if the butcher indulges in crab, it’s precisely with the thought of cracking the shell to retrieve it.
Settling into the seat of the outside table, sunk into the shade of the afternoon, the butcher’s attention flits back toward Danta with a smaller smile, hesitating as if he’s been caught trying to hide. Which, y’know, he has been. “Mm, well.” Puffing out his cheeks, the butcher reclines in the seat a touch and stretches out his long legs, knocking a knee into Danta’s in the process, slouching with a sigh. “I realize that Thal is… Infected. But, I do hope that she made it out okay from the fight.” And that man that had gone to attack her might have had a moment of realization that she might be able to be saved rather than attacked in the moment.
But, Asta doesn’t know Noah’s name. What he does know and will remember, is the Forsaken’s face.
Astaroth
// and i'll paint it red //
