// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //
A low laugh leaves the butcher, the incline of his head in a nod. “Most people prefer not to. It is what keeps them behaved, more often than not.” He says with a knowing grin, one that suggests it’s a reaction he gets more often than not - especially on those rare occasions that he does have to use it. It’s a good reminder, at least.
Taking the cane back, the butcher draws from the pipe and exhales in a slow plume that curls around his nose as he hooks it back against the table and collects the bone. “That is correct.” He agrees, quietly pleased that the gold would make for a good fit as he peers back down at the design. “Far from the Citadel and their heating magic.” Though it wasn’t like the butcher hadn’t ventured out that way a few times, trying to steal stragglers for survival. He’d learned quickly that wasn’t the way to go about it, though.
At least those old patrols had been amusing at the time. “I am glad too.” He hums, setting the pipe down for the moment so he can snag a rolled bag – unrolling it in front of the both of them to reveal a large variety of different instruments to carve the designs in – each impeccably sharp. “What tools do you require for the inlay?” He asks as he pics a thin one to get the outline just right and starts getting to work, the pipe settled between his lips again and bone shavings starting to litter the table in a fine dust and the occasional shard.
Taking the cane back, the butcher draws from the pipe and exhales in a slow plume that curls around his nose as he hooks it back against the table and collects the bone. “That is correct.” He agrees, quietly pleased that the gold would make for a good fit as he peers back down at the design. “Far from the Citadel and their heating magic.” Though it wasn’t like the butcher hadn’t ventured out that way a few times, trying to steal stragglers for survival. He’d learned quickly that wasn’t the way to go about it, though.
At least those old patrols had been amusing at the time. “I am glad too.” He hums, setting the pipe down for the moment so he can snag a rolled bag – unrolling it in front of the both of them to reveal a large variety of different instruments to carve the designs in – each impeccably sharp. “What tools do you require for the inlay?” He asks as he pics a thin one to get the outline just right and starts getting to work, the pipe settled between his lips again and bone shavings starting to litter the table in a fine dust and the occasional shard.
Astaroth
// and i'll paint it red //
