[Training] burn butcher burn

when I was a child I heard voices, some would sing and some would scream

"I feel as though the meat pies should be a specialty that you only sell on rare occasions," Danta says with a warm laugh, more than content to lose himself in this imaginary world where Asta has found his calling as a cannibal-chef. Hells, if their pretend clientele are still mostly Ancients, he might not even have to hide it. The amusement fades into something warmer as he feels the butcher's hand drop over his own, and he sighs knowing agreement with him.

"Well, obviously," he purrs. "But imagine later when you are craving something sweet and there they are, waiting." Because there doesn't exist a world where Asta isn't going to still want sugar in a few hours, and they both know it.

Watching Asta while Asta watches everyone else, only when their server retreats to a safe distance does Danta also reach out to stir his cocoa, wasting no time and taking an immediate sip. It isn't as though they have to wait for it to cool, and the line of sweet heat that spreads down his throat to warm his chest is comforting in a way he can't articulate. "Mm, we're almost at that time," he agrees, reaching for one of the candied orange slices and offering it up to Asta to sample.

"It's better with the bonfire, but the Grounds can still get quite bitter depending on the snowfall."

The Maverick

you soon find you have few choices, I learned the voices died with me