// once you're in my shining cathedral, heed the tolling bell //
“You are not far, darling.” Asta confirms, keeping her close when she lingers, the understanding and permission offered in the way she lingers in his arms. So the butcher extinguishes the fire momentarily if only to tug her a bit closer, slipping an arm underneath her back and her legs to hoist her up against his chest. From this proximity, each rough scarring of his chest is felt immensely with the jostle, though as always Astaroth pays it little mind.
Instead, he gets his feet underneath him, rising to his full height, keeping her close as he lifts her and hoists her to turn back toward the webbing pathways of the forest they’d wound up in. The smoldering lightning struck tree continues to sizzle as they walk past, but the butcher’s now placed a shield of flame above them to keep the rain from soaking the both of them further while also offering heat. An umbrella of fire, hot and sizzling with each raindrop as he takes note of the area and utilizing long and old abilities to be able to scout out which one will take her home.
So on the march they go, dark eyes scanning the forest for any predators that might wish to try and make a scene, though it seems Astaroth’s general aggression appears to have warded them away. “We shall get you home and dried off and tucked in. How does that sound?” He continues to walk as his gaze drops down to scan her face.
Instead, he gets his feet underneath him, rising to his full height, keeping her close as he lifts her and hoists her to turn back toward the webbing pathways of the forest they’d wound up in. The smoldering lightning struck tree continues to sizzle as they walk past, but the butcher’s now placed a shield of flame above them to keep the rain from soaking the both of them further while also offering heat. An umbrella of fire, hot and sizzling with each raindrop as he takes note of the area and utilizing long and old abilities to be able to scout out which one will take her home.
So on the march they go, dark eyes scanning the forest for any predators that might wish to try and make a scene, though it seems Astaroth’s general aggression appears to have warded them away. “We shall get you home and dried off and tucked in. How does that sound?” He continues to walk as his gaze drops down to scan her face.
Astaroth
// it's the final sound you hear as you descend to hell //
