// go get your gun, get your gun //
The snarl that leaves him is one that the butcher hears echo back to him from the dunes around – but it’s the weight of Danta along his back, hopping to gain his footing again before Asta’s snarls slowly start to dissipate. He also hates it here, feeling those pecks of his beak against the volcanic plates of the fyrhund shift he wears.
With a canine huff like yeah you’re probably right, the butcher starts to pick his path around each of the sulfur pools, careful to avoid the salt that lingers on the edges like a boundary to keep him from stepping too close. More of the pools bubble and boil and his ears remain flat against his skull as he trudges on, only the occasional low thrum of a growl slipping from his lips.
With a canine huff like yeah you’re probably right, the butcher starts to pick his path around each of the sulfur pools, careful to avoid the salt that lingers on the edges like a boundary to keep him from stepping too close. More of the pools bubble and boil and his ears remain flat against his skull as he trudges on, only the occasional low thrum of a growl slipping from his lips.
Astaroth
// and lets find out what it does //
