now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence
won't accept your silence
“Mm, sometimes.” He smirks, snorting a little as he shoots Thalassa a wink. It’s just before he’s clarifying the plan, the letter that he’d send after so she wouldn’t be left out of the happiness he’s sure will happen when he asks – unable to imagine a scenario where he says no, after all. And as she offers her sarcasm, the butcher huffs a softer laugh. “Perfect.” Perhaps having a dinner at some point with the both of them might be in order after so Thal can offer her congratulations.
But that’s a thought for later – because right now, the butcher’s focus is on the speaking squirrels that certainly will work for the plan in his mind. Once their focus shifts to them, the prey becomes nothing more than a game to the two of them. Thal’s dagger flicks out, pinning the rodent into the tree trunk while Asta opts for a different approach.
The knife he’d been toying with previously slices against the outside of his wrist, his bloodbane aimed at the departing squirrel just in time for it to collapse and crash into the underbrush. It’s less messy than Thal’s dagger, but both will have served their purpose. Stepping over to collect the lifeless body of the speaking squirrel that Asta had focused on, he spots a nearby fallen log that would make for a perfect little bench to dissect the beast to collect the portions he wants. “I only need the bones, so if you would like the flesh, be my guest, darling.”
But that’s a thought for later – because right now, the butcher’s focus is on the speaking squirrels that certainly will work for the plan in his mind. Once their focus shifts to them, the prey becomes nothing more than a game to the two of them. Thal’s dagger flicks out, pinning the rodent into the tree trunk while Asta opts for a different approach.
The knife he’d been toying with previously slices against the outside of his wrist, his bloodbane aimed at the departing squirrel just in time for it to collapse and crash into the underbrush. It’s less messy than Thal’s dagger, but both will have served their purpose. Stepping over to collect the lifeless body of the speaking squirrel that Asta had focused on, he spots a nearby fallen log that would make for a perfect little bench to dissect the beast to collect the portions he wants. “I only need the bones, so if you would like the flesh, be my guest, darling.”
Astaroth
beg me for forgiveness
