the wind around the willow

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

Hissing in a breath through his teeth as the last of the shirt burns away, followed by the rough bandaging Asta has managed against his mangled arm, Danta doesn't try to manipulate the limb too much, setting it carefully back in his lap. "I'm sure the healers have seen worse," he says with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, the Maverick stepping in closer now to wrap an arm carefully around the butcher at last.

"I thought you were just out hunting," he says, voice pitched low as he tries to piece together the man who had left for the Greatwood with the one returning now. He never voices it properly - what happened? - but the implication is there for Asta to respond in whatever way feels best for now. Even if there isn't an answer, even if the only sound for the next few minutes is the crackling of the fires Danta stokes in the hearths and the soft hush of their breathing.

Eventually, of course, the front doors click back open and Danta's head snaps up to see the barman returning with a healer from the Infirmary in tow, one with a hefty medical bag and magic already buzzing at her fingertips. "Finally," he whispers, reluctantly straightening up so she can get to work.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash