Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
“How thoughtful of you, wasp.” Asta purrs, leaning into his space briefly to spy the flask, incense, and the squirrel skull that seem like perfect offerings for the Leafchange deity. Not that he would really know, at the end of the day. If the screaming rain was attributed to her, perhaps more Dygra-like offerings would be appreciated, and for that the butcher is very apt at creating so he doesn’t have to share the Maverick’s own trinkets.
Hearing the groan and feeling him tuck in closer, the butcher’s arm sweeps around him and tucks in at his hip, radiating heat despite the slight breezy chill in the air. “It could be.” He touts playfully, bouncing his own brow back. His exhaustion would make it more difficult for him that season, but it meant all the more reasons to stay holed up inside to watch the wintry landscape from the comfort of the windows.
Nodding at the mention of the jar of excuses, he glances back over at Danta to see his attention sweep out over the forest paired with the grin on his face. “See, darling?” He boasts, until his dark gaze flits over toward the large tree suddenly taking up his attention. The giant trunk is definitely an indicator, though. “I do not think I’ve seen a tree quite that large, truthfully.” His pace picks up a little, if only so he can stand underneath the Mathair and peer up, and up, and up at it. “It has to be.” He chuckles a little, stepping aside so that Danta can start to leave the offerings. It gives him time to scan the surrounding clearing for anything that might be of note to leave from himself.
Hearing the groan and feeling him tuck in closer, the butcher’s arm sweeps around him and tucks in at his hip, radiating heat despite the slight breezy chill in the air. “It could be.” He touts playfully, bouncing his own brow back. His exhaustion would make it more difficult for him that season, but it meant all the more reasons to stay holed up inside to watch the wintry landscape from the comfort of the windows.
Nodding at the mention of the jar of excuses, he glances back over at Danta to see his attention sweep out over the forest paired with the grin on his face. “See, darling?” He boasts, until his dark gaze flits over toward the large tree suddenly taking up his attention. The giant trunk is definitely an indicator, though. “I do not think I’ve seen a tree quite that large, truthfully.” His pace picks up a little, if only so he can stand underneath the Mathair and peer up, and up, and up at it. “It has to be.” He chuckles a little, stepping aside so that Danta can start to leave the offerings. It gives him time to scan the surrounding clearing for anything that might be of note to leave from himself.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
