the wind around the willow

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

It's as if the heat of his hand has reminded the other man to breathe, Danta managing a small smile only for Asta to suddenly crush him in a hug. And gods he'll apologise for it later, and for the screams of protest every bruise is likely making, but his arms wind around him to clutch hold of him in return, head turning to press his ear to the butcher's chest to hear that familiar drumbeat for himself.

Violent and persnickety and highly strung Asta might be, but no part of Danta has ever shied away from that - if anything the Maverick has proven to love those parts of him all the harder, given the chance. He just about has the chance to uncage a sigh from the back of a throat gone tight with emotion when Asta says it - secondary plan. Revivify feather.

"A what?" he whispers, voice muffled in the other man's shirt until he can make himself straighten up somewhat. "You have a what?" The laughter starts as something quiet and disbeliving, Danta looking over his lover as if he might produce a literal phoenix feather from his back pocket. "One of those things that brings people back from the dead?" he wants to clarify it before he decides to wholly feel better, you understand.

Dantalion

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