run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
They all seem to forget about one another, the wolves picked off enough that the rest don’t seem to wish to stick around. And if the butcher was more aware of his surroundings, he might note that they’ve all slunk away, tails tucked, head lowered. He doesn’t notice, though, not as he delves into the beast beneath his fingers, staining and drenching his clothes in the process, enough that it begins to freeze on the outside expanse.
Not that the butcher cares too much about it, sticking his fingers into the belly of the beast to get all the best parts. It’s warm in there anyway, hot enough that it staves off the cold grey that tries to take over him. He eats his fill until he’s coming back to his senses, sitting back in a bloody reverence, the blood dripping from his fingers and his chin against his chest – eyes closed as if he’s praying.
It only lasts a few moments of getting his emotions and all the sensations under control when he exhales a long slow breath in a pale plume of a cloud and summons a ball of flame to stick his hands into, watching the blood turn to ash, flaking away in the faint breeze.
Not that the butcher cares too much about it, sticking his fingers into the belly of the beast to get all the best parts. It’s warm in there anyway, hot enough that it staves off the cold grey that tries to take over him. He eats his fill until he’s coming back to his senses, sitting back in a bloody reverence, the blood dripping from his fingers and his chin against his chest – eyes closed as if he’s praying.
It only lasts a few moments of getting his emotions and all the sensations under control when he exhales a long slow breath in a pale plume of a cloud and summons a ball of flame to stick his hands into, watching the blood turn to ash, flaking away in the faint breeze.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
