// seven, six, five, four, three, two, one //
“I am inclined to believe the payoff is better than the temporary hiccup.” The Butcher admits with a playful waggle of his brow, his grin stretching brighter. It remains just as bright when Thalassa mentions sparring before then, managing a bark of a laugh. “Ah yes, so you can take advantage of a weak old man?” The tease is blatantly there, because he’s obviously willing to test his abilities even if Thalassa kicked his ass, knowing full well he’ll manage to regain his strength and get the upper hand once again.
Ah, but then Sicarius is settling into his hands to inspect Thalassa in all her macabre glory, and once the other ancient reaches up to let her get a sniff, the dragonling leans forward to smell her hand, puffing a little cloud of smoke that dances around her fingers before she withdraws with content and clamors up Astaroth’s arm and shoulder to curl around his neck as he watches her put her dagger away.
“Oh gods no.” He laughs, shaking his head, disrupting Sicarius enough that a little flicker of black flame sparks past her lips in her grumpiness at being jostled. “I think She knows I am a better mentor than I am a father.” The idea of having a kid has him cringing a touch internally, but the grin he shoots her way is vibrant in spite of it. “Anyway, enough about me, though we both know I could talk about it all day. What have you been up to?” He asks, offering out his arm for her to take should she wish to so they can get into the wilderness to hunt.
Ah, but then Sicarius is settling into his hands to inspect Thalassa in all her macabre glory, and once the other ancient reaches up to let her get a sniff, the dragonling leans forward to smell her hand, puffing a little cloud of smoke that dances around her fingers before she withdraws with content and clamors up Astaroth’s arm and shoulder to curl around his neck as he watches her put her dagger away.
“Oh gods no.” He laughs, shaking his head, disrupting Sicarius enough that a little flicker of black flame sparks past her lips in her grumpiness at being jostled. “I think She knows I am a better mentor than I am a father.” The idea of having a kid has him cringing a touch internally, but the grin he shoots her way is vibrant in spite of it. “Anyway, enough about me, though we both know I could talk about it all day. What have you been up to?” He asks, offering out his arm for her to take should she wish to so they can get into the wilderness to hunt.
Astaroth
// everybody's got a name, everybody's got a number //
