we're born at night, so much of our life
"We'll do our best," Danta chimes, of holding in their laughter, the Maverick baring his teeth in a fanged grin and giving Asta a gentle squeeze as if to assure him that they won't poke (too much) fun, and neither will they let him freeze into stone out in the snow. He turns his head just in time for the kiss to land against his lips, leaving him smiling at the butcher's back - and his fluffy deer tail, consequently, once he shifts.
"The hunt is on," he purrs, offering a roguish little bow to Thalassa before he's also on the move, exchanging skin for dark feathers and taking silently to the branches overhead. Built for these kinds of short flights and hopping between trees, Danta's beady eyes are trained for any sight of the wolves as Asta goes prancing bounding off into the snow.
And he doesn't see anything, not yet - but he does hear the mournful cry of the pack soon enough, as if they're trying to spook Asta into a certain direction.
"The hunt is on," he purrs, offering a roguish little bow to Thalassa before he's also on the move, exchanging skin for dark feathers and taking silently to the branches overhead. Built for these kinds of short flights and hopping between trees, Danta's beady eyes are trained for any sight of the wolves as Asta goes prancing bounding off into the snow.
And he doesn't see anything, not yet - but he does hear the mournful cry of the pack soon enough, as if they're trying to spook Asta into a certain direction.
Dantalion
is just carvin' through the dark
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
