I sink to let you breathe

I used to hold your haunted neck; I know I'll miss you if I close my eyes

"I feel something in the air," Danta says with a furrowed brow and a scrunch of his nose, though the expression is half-hearted at best as Asta turns in place to grasp at him and ferry him closer. His smile threatens to break through every second, especially as his own rubber boots are grasped and fused into place by the sucking mud. With a muffled fwop, the Maverick is left standing on one leg, his boot still in the mud behind him.

"Oh wow," he says, blinking at Asta as if to ask whether he's also seeing this. "I hate it."

Chuckling and trying to fish his foot back into the boot - holding onto the butcher for balance, of course - Danta spends a couple of seconds freeing himself before clambering up onto a mossy tump out of the water. "I can see why people didn't want to be around here much, even with this charming landmark."

Peering up at the skeletal tree, all ragged rope and weeping red sap, the Maverick shrugs and takes a small hatchet from his belt. "Welp, time to hack some bits off it."

Dantalion