no one left to kill in the sky

// fire on the mountain, run, boys, run //

Asta won't hear the next chirp of approval as Danta notices his fellow dragon catching himself starfishing his scaly limbs around (and fixing it), but you can bet your sweet bippy it happens. He's quiet as they start to fly in earnest, knowing the other man will likely need more concentration than he does, and so he contents himself in first catching a thermal above the butcher, then eventually swooping behind him to ride the wind in his shadow for a bit.

By the time Asta decides to turn, to rise higher and to roar his glee overhead, Danta has fully settled into the shift and the heat soaking into shimmering black scales, feeling whatever reptilian instincts that exist within him stretch and keen their enjoyment to be able to freely fly like this. He doesn't care which direction they go, the Maverick rising abreast of his lover with a few beats of his wings, and later he'll notice that they're heading towards a strange, bleached area of Hak Etme. He won't know what that means, though, until they get there.

For now, he merely roars his satisfaction back at the other Ancient, smoke billowing from his nostrils in an urge to celebrate properly with a ribbon of flame from his throat.

Dantalion

// the devil's in the house of the risin' sun //