we're born at night, so much of our life
The afternoon passes quickly for Danta. After their lunch at the tavern it had been more work to come, and hard labour at that - ferrying lumber and holding boards and posts in place to assist in rebuilding part of the docks, and by the time they're released from their duties he is more than ready to get the fuck out of Jack Tar. Despite the fatigue dragging at his bones, he'd promised Asta they'd get back to their own bed even if it took all night, and besides, he has a feeling his lover will need the space to run and let off steam after a day on his best behaviour.
And so Danta has exchanged long limbs for dark feathers, taking to the skies the moment they are free of the last cluster of buildings for miles. Letting out an echoing caw of invitation, he circles low for now, wings spread wide as he waits for the butcher to set the pace. If he wants to run and run hard, the Maverick is content to catch a thermal and soar higher to keep up.
And so Danta has exchanged long limbs for dark feathers, taking to the skies the moment they are free of the last cluster of buildings for miles. Letting out an echoing caw of invitation, he circles low for now, wings spread wide as he waits for the butcher to set the pace. If he wants to run and run hard, the Maverick is content to catch a thermal and soar higher to keep up.
Dantalion
is just carvin' through the dark
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
