Iskra
this heartwood was cut too damn deep
"But," Iskra stammers out, his confusion remaining. "Doesn't it hurt?" Perhaps Ludo's curse to make him shout for days hadn't been so bad after all, especially since this isn't even a curse. He can't fathom what Dygra must do when she's upset. A glance back towards the smiling predator and his flicking tail, his antlers, it's all a cool reminder that Iskra is standing somewhere where he's very out of place.
"So, blood is entropy?" He'd think spit or semen could be just as chaotic in the right applications, although he's certainly not vouching for jacking off on the shrine over this. Swallowing hard, Iskra steps forward as he is beckoned, his legs feeling like lead but somehow still managing to complete the motion of walking. His fingers fumble with the little bag of goodies, and her pulls out a small raven carving first, handing it over to Asta carefully.
Asta clarifies his question as he continues, stating it's bloodlust that must be fulfilled, a hold that Iskra has started to become familiar with in his own way. Just, he prefers taking the blood from villainous creatures rather than his own veins, but the risk is always there when cleaving life out of something fighting to survive. "What happens if you don't?" he asks out of curiosity, gaze drawn to the gleam of the uneven ruby projections. He reaches out, a tentative finger running of the edge, skin prickling against the sharp point he can feel there. Setting his teeth against one another, he presses in, just enough, until he feels the bite of it and sees his own red meet the ruby's. A humble offering compared to Asta's, but when in Rome...
"So, blood is entropy?" He'd think spit or semen could be just as chaotic in the right applications, although he's certainly not vouching for jacking off on the shrine over this. Swallowing hard, Iskra steps forward as he is beckoned, his legs feeling like lead but somehow still managing to complete the motion of walking. His fingers fumble with the little bag of goodies, and her pulls out a small raven carving first, handing it over to Asta carefully.
Asta clarifies his question as he continues, stating it's bloodlust that must be fulfilled, a hold that Iskra has started to become familiar with in his own way. Just, he prefers taking the blood from villainous creatures rather than his own veins, but the risk is always there when cleaving life out of something fighting to survive. "What happens if you don't?" he asks out of curiosity, gaze drawn to the gleam of the uneven ruby projections. He reaches out, a tentative finger running of the edge, skin prickling against the sharp point he can feel there. Setting his teeth against one another, he presses in, just enough, until he feels the bite of it and sees his own red meet the ruby's. A humble offering compared to Asta's, but when in Rome...
I can't see the wood for the trees
