// day breaks sorrow //
Cleaned up and with a detour to the Greatwood on the way home, the butcher’s back in his usual well tailored attire. This time, sporting a dark blood red waistcoat with ivory threading to craft a pinstripe appearance, allowing the butcher to appear even taller, is paired with a long black silk shirt beneath it, sleeves rolled up neatly and with silver chains adorning the pocket of the waistcoat to be met with the little journal kept in his pocket. He’s horribly overdressed for this endeavor, though Astaroth seems to care very little - especially as he’s too busy lagging a touch behind to watch his lover take the lead through this relatively skinny path.
“Well, it is not the Hanging Tree, but it is charming, wouldn’t you agree?” He asks, reaching forward as he steps closer to the Maverick, his hand warm as it meets Danta’s lower back when the path opens up again. At least, mostly opens up. Because he’s still forced to step over a rather large root sticking out of the ground.
He pays it little mind as he spots the lanterns that adorn the tree branches, wondering whom they belonged to - while also silently stricken with an intriguing thought of whether or not any of those lives he’d claimed more recently had lanterns out in the world for them.
“Well, it is not the Hanging Tree, but it is charming, wouldn’t you agree?” He asks, reaching forward as he steps closer to the Maverick, his hand warm as it meets Danta’s lower back when the path opens up again. At least, mostly opens up. Because he’s still forced to step over a rather large root sticking out of the ground.
He pays it little mind as he spots the lanterns that adorn the tree branches, wondering whom they belonged to - while also silently stricken with an intriguing thought of whether or not any of those lives he’d claimed more recently had lanterns out in the world for them.
Astaroth
// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //
