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
“Oh, darling, what a display.” The butcher approves of the story of which caused the Hanged Man to burn down. Obviously it was upsetting that it had to happen, but the reasoning? The butcher can absolutely look at it in the right light. Just Flora’s name in regards to whomever Kaisel’s ex was, was enough to demolish something of such importance? It sounds childish in the way that he would agree that it’s a good bare bones for a good love story.
But then she has to make her own plans for it, the rebuild, taking the blame, swallowing down whatever’s happened in order to make something new without the memories. “I can only imagine. I am quite happy to help should you require it, though.” He hums, leaning into her space once he’s dressed for the healing warm water that calls to the bruises and pain still in his bones. He nudges her gently with his elbow and offers a shark tooth grin before he withdraws, snorting softly to hear her excitement regarding Danta’s birthday.
“Well, I am afraid it likely isn’t your scene, darling.” He sighs dramatically and a touch sorrowful. “I have planned a hunt – and not particularly one for your average deer.” If she catches his meaning, so be it, but his smile doesn’t give anything away whether the game was deer, bears, or people. “Yet in terms of an actual celebration, perhaps something along those lines might make for a nice apology for going and doing all of, mm, well… This.” Gesturing to the pale arcs of scar tissue and letting his tail wag to hear her praise for his appearance regardless of the black eye and the bruising, he chuckles a soft “thank you, darling” before following her into the warmth of the water.
Immediately there’s the sense of dull sparks of pain alleviating, a welcoming sensation as he sinks into it until the water rests against his neck and the edge of his jaw, the long dark hair kept swept back behind his horns long enough now to start wicking the water like a watercolor paintbrush. “You know… I thought for a second that he was going to break up with me after I got back.” He trails off, his fingertips toying with the water in front of him before he lifts his dark gaze over toward Flora – a faint smile still tugged on his face but he somehow looks much softer.
But then she has to make her own plans for it, the rebuild, taking the blame, swallowing down whatever’s happened in order to make something new without the memories. “I can only imagine. I am quite happy to help should you require it, though.” He hums, leaning into her space once he’s dressed for the healing warm water that calls to the bruises and pain still in his bones. He nudges her gently with his elbow and offers a shark tooth grin before he withdraws, snorting softly to hear her excitement regarding Danta’s birthday.
“Well, I am afraid it likely isn’t your scene, darling.” He sighs dramatically and a touch sorrowful. “I have planned a hunt – and not particularly one for your average deer.” If she catches his meaning, so be it, but his smile doesn’t give anything away whether the game was deer, bears, or people. “Yet in terms of an actual celebration, perhaps something along those lines might make for a nice apology for going and doing all of, mm, well… This.” Gesturing to the pale arcs of scar tissue and letting his tail wag to hear her praise for his appearance regardless of the black eye and the bruising, he chuckles a soft “thank you, darling” before following her into the warmth of the water.
Immediately there’s the sense of dull sparks of pain alleviating, a welcoming sensation as he sinks into it until the water rests against his neck and the edge of his jaw, the long dark hair kept swept back behind his horns long enough now to start wicking the water like a watercolor paintbrush. “You know… I thought for a second that he was going to break up with me after I got back.” He trails off, his fingertips toying with the water in front of him before he lifts his dark gaze over toward Flora – a faint smile still tugged on his face but he somehow looks much softer.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
