reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
Chuckling lightly as the butcher rolls his eyes, exhaling a sigh that’s full of amusement as it is nostalgia at the memory. “Mm, well, I got wounded so terribly by one once that Flora summoned Safrin in order to heal me.” So not particularly one of his finest moments, nor was it proving the fact that he doesn’t always get wounded on his outings.
But that’s neither here nor there.
He sips from his glass in blissful, playful unawareness. Letting the warmth of the liquor burn in his stomach and loosen his limbs, adding to the casual arrogance of the events of the day, even as he leans forward and teases her about how ineffectual he would be in his career if he was forced to be wound in protective layers.
“Well, I suppose you are in luck, then. I have some armor to ask our Lady about.” Letting that linger, the butcher finds it satisfactory enough to hopefully alleviate any worries she might have regarding how guarded he keeps his body.
But that’s neither here nor there.
He sips from his glass in blissful, playful unawareness. Letting the warmth of the liquor burn in his stomach and loosen his limbs, adding to the casual arrogance of the events of the day, even as he leans forward and teases her about how ineffectual he would be in his career if he was forced to be wound in protective layers.
“Well, I suppose you are in luck, then. I have some armor to ask our Lady about.” Letting that linger, the butcher finds it satisfactory enough to hopefully alleviate any worries she might have regarding how guarded he keeps his body.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
