// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
“Perhaps.” The butcher hums, as if not fully convinced over the thought that Iskra has. Pain for him was variable. He could take a good amount of physical pain in stride, easy and welcoming, worn like an old coat. Emotional pain, however, was another story. Something that the butcher was far more fragile than he ever lets on with, and it remains a little secret he keeps tied in.
When it comes to the blood being too predictable, the butcher hums a quiet laugh, staunching the blood again from his palm when he sees Iskra doing the offer himself with the blood that seeps from his finger. Withdrawing a handkerchief, the butcher slips it into his hand to ball it up, to get it to clot and quit bleeding now that they have enough on the table. “I may try that.” Is he being honest in that he might? Maybe. Maybe not. Only time would tell.
Instead, he leans a hip against the shrine to watch as Iskra places strawberry candies on the rubies, amusement flickering in his gaze as one of the strawberries is handed to him. A touch delighted at the result, he plucks the strawberry from his hand and inspects it briefly before flashing the woodworker a sharp smile. “She saved my life, as I told you before.” The butcher hums easily, looking to the shrine with fondness. "I was once left to the horrors of the Climb, sentenced to a slow and agonizing death when some other Ancients found me and brought me to her. She is why I am here today."
When it comes to the blood being too predictable, the butcher hums a quiet laugh, staunching the blood again from his palm when he sees Iskra doing the offer himself with the blood that seeps from his finger. Withdrawing a handkerchief, the butcher slips it into his hand to ball it up, to get it to clot and quit bleeding now that they have enough on the table. “I may try that.” Is he being honest in that he might? Maybe. Maybe not. Only time would tell.
Instead, he leans a hip against the shrine to watch as Iskra places strawberry candies on the rubies, amusement flickering in his gaze as one of the strawberries is handed to him. A touch delighted at the result, he plucks the strawberry from his hand and inspects it briefly before flashing the woodworker a sharp smile. “She saved my life, as I told you before.” The butcher hums easily, looking to the shrine with fondness. "I was once left to the horrors of the Climb, sentenced to a slow and agonizing death when some other Ancients found me and brought me to her. She is why I am here today."
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
