drink 'til you choke

Astaroth

// so sip the gossip, drink 'til you choke. sip the gossip, burn down your throat //

Melting into a heap that really, really proves to the Butcher just how exhausting the whole ordeal of the day has been, sinking into the warm comfort of the Maverick. He peers up at him with his chin propped on his chest, snorting as his hand shifts just enough to let the other Ancient pepper his wrist with little kisses. “I am always happy to provide, darling.” The butcher purrs with a twitch of his tail, before it starts to wag behind him with less enthusiasm than his fyrhund shift often gave him.

As for training and seeing what was up his sleeve, he perks up with it in interest. “That would be lovely.” To get to test everything that Dygra had given him. “I have already noticed that my glamour is gone. And all my shifts apart from one.” He murmurs, shifting to offer Danta a slanted, apologetic smile. “So perhaps we will be back to purchasing the vast majority of pillows in the Grounds once again.” He sighs dramatically, just in time for Sicarius to return back from her wandering, dragging a blanket that had been stored away, made of fur but torn and burnt slightly. It’s large enough for her to spin it into a nest of sorts by the door, before she curls up into it with a smoky huff.

// you're not iconic, you are just like them all. don't act like you don't know //