storm's comin', I can see the clouds
"Mm, well tell your fyrhund to get a better sense of self-preservation," Danta calls to Asta as he rises to his feet, magnanimously accepting his kiss and promptly sprawling into the warm space the butcher has left behind. "Then again," he continues, half to himself, "I suppose that's like asking me to stop enjoying shiny things." Wiggling ringed fingers at Asta as if to demonstrate, he finally sits himself up as the butcher turns with the tray in hand.
"Cursed cookies?" he purrs. "Don't mind if I do. What kind of tea did we get?" Cross-legged before the tray with a blanket around his shoulders and his hair a hopeless mess, Danta is already reaching for a cookie shaped like a finger bone; he's not normally one for sweets, but today he doesn't hesitate to take a bite of it. A shortbread bone - perfect.
"Cursed cookies?" he purrs. "Don't mind if I do. What kind of tea did we get?" Cross-legged before the tray with a blanket around his shoulders and his hair a hopeless mess, Danta is already reaching for a cookie shaped like a finger bone; he's not normally one for sweets, but today he doesn't hesitate to take a bite of it. A shortbread bone - perfect.
Dantalion
No runnin's gonna save you now
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
