// don't you fight my hold on you //
The butcher goes through the motions of his reverence when the high of the devouring starts to overcome him; quiet as he catches his breath and sinks back on his heels. Blood drips both into and down from the stubble on his face, but it’s a fruitless adventure to try and swipe it away now. Instead, he lets it coat his face and throat, the front of his clothes, offering his quiet prayers to Dygra before he’s snapping off a pale white exposed rib.
It goes into the bag alongside the butcher’s roll, each blade swiped against a forearm sleeve to get the majority of the blood off of it before it’s neatly tucked away, allowing him the moment to zero in on his lover when he speaks, the motes of light drawing him to him as though he were a moth.
“He had been cooped up for some time. I had intended to do it before the mud ordeal.” He offers with a touch of apology, having not exactly been able to plan this at the prisoner’s “prime” so they might have more of a game.
But he steps over to where Danta’s settled down, invading his space to kneel before him, leaning over him until his forehead can press against Danta’s own in a gentle and grounding touch. “We should. Luckily for you, your soldiers appear to be getting more attentive to those that delve into crime.” Which means it might get even more fun when they get wise to it and stop letting the soldiers capture them.
Then the true hunt could really begin. “For now, though, happy birthday my love.” He punctuates it with a gentle, copper kiss.
It goes into the bag alongside the butcher’s roll, each blade swiped against a forearm sleeve to get the majority of the blood off of it before it’s neatly tucked away, allowing him the moment to zero in on his lover when he speaks, the motes of light drawing him to him as though he were a moth.
“He had been cooped up for some time. I had intended to do it before the mud ordeal.” He offers with a touch of apology, having not exactly been able to plan this at the prisoner’s “prime” so they might have more of a game.
But he steps over to where Danta’s settled down, invading his space to kneel before him, leaning over him until his forehead can press against Danta’s own in a gentle and grounding touch. “We should. Luckily for you, your soldiers appear to be getting more attentive to those that delve into crime.” Which means it might get even more fun when they get wise to it and stop letting the soldiers capture them.
Then the true hunt could really begin. “For now, though, happy birthday my love.” He punctuates it with a gentle, copper kiss.
Astaroth
// pour the gasoline, strike your match on me //
