my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,
come now, bite through these wires,
Danta has done beautifully when it comes to fitting in to whatever finery the butcher has adorned today, such that they do look like quite the stunning pair as they break out from the Last Whisper into the Inner Quarter – and gasp, believe it or not, the butcher doesn’t once complain about the stairs in order to get there.
“Yes. It is very good that you are here to remind me that I am getting that much older day after day.” He teases, his voice dropping into a warm drawl of amusement before they continue to pluck their path through the cleared cobblestone, avoiding snowdrifts where they can.
When the corvid swoops down, the butcher’s eyes flash to it nearly immediately – it isn’t that the bracelet isn’t working, but old habits die hard. And while he doesn’t have the trauma associated with it at this present moment, the sudden movement does immediately draw his eye. And should the crow come to swoop down and snag his golden chains, it would certainly be met with fire and rage from both of them.
As it turns out, neither of them have to do it, the star of the show is Moira as she swoops in from above, pummeling the poor thing. And while Danta bites back his laughter, the butcher has no such qualms. His laugh is a bark of surprise, bright, surprised. “Gods, she is just the perfect vigilante, is she not?” The butcher laughs softly, squeezing Danta’s arm and letting him continue to lead the way.
“Yes. It is very good that you are here to remind me that I am getting that much older day after day.” He teases, his voice dropping into a warm drawl of amusement before they continue to pluck their path through the cleared cobblestone, avoiding snowdrifts where they can.
When the corvid swoops down, the butcher’s eyes flash to it nearly immediately – it isn’t that the bracelet isn’t working, but old habits die hard. And while he doesn’t have the trauma associated with it at this present moment, the sudden movement does immediately draw his eye. And should the crow come to swoop down and snag his golden chains, it would certainly be met with fire and rage from both of them.
As it turns out, neither of them have to do it, the star of the show is Moira as she swoops in from above, pummeling the poor thing. And while Danta bites back his laughter, the butcher has no such qualms. His laugh is a bark of surprise, bright, surprised. “Gods, she is just the perfect vigilante, is she not?” The butcher laughs softly, squeezing Danta’s arm and letting him continue to lead the way.
Astaroth
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
