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,
He absolutely sees the way Danta is wide eyed and taking in the décor even down to the silverware and their unique, handmade charm. His forks and spoons look different enough to Danta’s own that he could likely assume they had been crafted entirely by hand, without the smooth help of magic. It only seems to add to the charm. “Yes.” The butcher hums, leaning forward to take in the menu and all the brilliantly warm and divine courses that are listed out within this bistro.
He can see Danta struggling, only because he’s pretty sure he’s seen him scan the same line at least four times, and the silent twist of his lips as though trying to sound it out even if no sound is heard but the gentle rumble of chatter and faint, cheery music playing in the background. “Mm, well, I think I am torn between the roasted rosemary lamb with truffle risotto and the seared duck breast with butternut squash and soup.” He tilts his head one way, then another, before he’s looking at the rest of the menu, saying them aloud but quietly as if he’s debating them himself (but it’s silently for Danta’s benefit).
“I would imagine a red and a white wine would pair nicely with whatever we decide.. A cabernet sauvignon for the rich meats? Perhaps an oaked chardonnay if they have them for the lighter fare?” Flicking his gaze up to Danta, there’s still sleep and exhaustion lingering in the lines of his face but there’s warmth and utmost joy hidden beneath the surface, his eyes lit up by the bonfire and oil lamps around them making them brighter than their usual dark pits.
He can see Danta struggling, only because he’s pretty sure he’s seen him scan the same line at least four times, and the silent twist of his lips as though trying to sound it out even if no sound is heard but the gentle rumble of chatter and faint, cheery music playing in the background. “Mm, well, I think I am torn between the roasted rosemary lamb with truffle risotto and the seared duck breast with butternut squash and soup.” He tilts his head one way, then another, before he’s looking at the rest of the menu, saying them aloud but quietly as if he’s debating them himself (but it’s silently for Danta’s benefit).
“I would imagine a red and a white wine would pair nicely with whatever we decide.. A cabernet sauvignon for the rich meats? Perhaps an oaked chardonnay if they have them for the lighter fare?” Flicking his gaze up to Danta, there’s still sleep and exhaustion lingering in the lines of his face but there’s warmth and utmost joy hidden beneath the surface, his eyes lit up by the bonfire and oil lamps around them making them brighter than their usual dark pits.
Astaroth
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
