// tell me i'm forgiven, say you'll always be mine //
As he tugs Danta away from the trail the vast majority of the prey animals would use to flee the fires up ahead, he settles in the shade of one of the trees and squints through to track the creatures that leave. Small beasts, ones that are easier to take note of anything amiss, but he still keeps his eyes peeled for a cockatrice up ahead. All the while he listens for his lover’s voice, his tail twitching behind him not unlike a pointer dog waiting to find its goal.
“My hope is that it will be fleeing.” He murmurs quietly, taking a few steps closer off the beaten path as more blink hares dart past them and a few other insects and birds. “We could take it while it is disoriented.” And perhaps give them a bit of an advantage in that regard.
He peels his attention away briefly to glance back at Danta with that same too sharp grin, his hand seeking out the Maverick’s to tug him closer to him while they head closer to the fire and the smoke that begins to stretch its long fingers out. Spying some kind of movement, there’s a group of green beasts with bat wings that seem confused whether or not they want to go get into he mix of everything or chase after the small frogs jumping away from the heat.
“There—” The butcher breathes, pointing at the frenzied circle of three cockatrice as one loses its nerve and begins to zip away in a zigzag, darting motion. It doesn’t attack them just yet, despite one of the larger ones remaining looking at them. But Asta knows from his research that the second they make a move it’ll immediately spur it into action.
So he starts it, latching onto a bit of conjured flame to toss over at it and pluck one from the duo.
Cockatrice HP: 403/403
“My hope is that it will be fleeing.” He murmurs quietly, taking a few steps closer off the beaten path as more blink hares dart past them and a few other insects and birds. “We could take it while it is disoriented.” And perhaps give them a bit of an advantage in that regard.
He peels his attention away briefly to glance back at Danta with that same too sharp grin, his hand seeking out the Maverick’s to tug him closer to him while they head closer to the fire and the smoke that begins to stretch its long fingers out. Spying some kind of movement, there’s a group of green beasts with bat wings that seem confused whether or not they want to go get into he mix of everything or chase after the small frogs jumping away from the heat.
“There—” The butcher breathes, pointing at the frenzied circle of three cockatrice as one loses its nerve and begins to zip away in a zigzag, darting motion. It doesn’t attack them just yet, despite one of the larger ones remaining looking at them. But Asta knows from his research that the second they make a move it’ll immediately spur it into action.
So he starts it, latching onto a bit of conjured flame to toss over at it and pluck one from the duo.
Cockatrice HP: 403/403
Astaroth
// say that everything is over, tell me i'm fine //
