// we can't see the end from the start //
As Spice puffs up, Sicarius lowers herself – pitless eyes focused intensely on the frosty dragon as though she realizes she’s the youngest of them, and it’s enough of a back down that Asta’s appreciation and amusement flickers in his dark gaze briefly, hoping there wouldn’t be a reptilian cat-fight on their hands. It’s a similar smile that he shoots to Flora to hear that she’s usually up early for a run, conceding with an incline of his head. “Good.” He hums – not that he’s glad she’s up early and getting her exercise, but because he’s glad he hasn’t been too terrible of a house guest to have woken the host prematurely.
Sicarius starts to move as Asta does, making her way back down toward the bar to give Spice the upperhand above her, her own long nose outstretched up, body hunched down as she makes a little grating squeak up at the other companion, tail twitching back and forth as she flattens her front legs down in a very young attempt to try and get Spice to play with her. And all the while, Asta focuses on the drink with constant little glances at his own companion to make sure she’s also behaving herself.
“Deal, darling.” Asta purrs with a small crooked smile, finishing off the mimosa and handing it off to her before he takes up his own glass of dark liquor, settling into the chair to listen with rapt attention. “Ah, yes, in regard to the poacher I assume.” It’s rhetorical, because the Butcher isn’t intending on interrupting Flora too much, but he takes another sip before a low chuckle leaves him to hear Safrin’s response. It felt like a Dygra kind of answer, if he’s being honest, but he hangs on her every word as she unveils it for him, painting the picture with a nod of his head.
It’s a lot of emotions that he can imagine got all knotted up until the final unveiling, like Safrin had been wrapping this present precisely in how she knew Flora would find it most surprising and appreciative, so he can’t help but to lift his glass of liquor in a small little toast to her. “That is a whirlwind, isn’t it?” He hums, shooting a grin back at her. “I do not know Safrin well, but given what I do know of her, it is not surprising that she would see your brilliant potential.” Inclining his head, mirroring her smile in a dazzling display of happiness for his friend. “How was the change? How different did you feel?” Then, suddenly, leaning forward a touch in a way that almost startles Sicarius, he grins at Flora. “Did your veins feel like they were filled with stardust?” It was reminiscent of the feeling he’d had when Safrin had healed him with the dreadful wicker woman, only he can imagine it upped to a ten thousandth degree.
Provided he’s right, that is.
Sicarius starts to move as Asta does, making her way back down toward the bar to give Spice the upperhand above her, her own long nose outstretched up, body hunched down as she makes a little grating squeak up at the other companion, tail twitching back and forth as she flattens her front legs down in a very young attempt to try and get Spice to play with her. And all the while, Asta focuses on the drink with constant little glances at his own companion to make sure she’s also behaving herself.
“Deal, darling.” Asta purrs with a small crooked smile, finishing off the mimosa and handing it off to her before he takes up his own glass of dark liquor, settling into the chair to listen with rapt attention. “Ah, yes, in regard to the poacher I assume.” It’s rhetorical, because the Butcher isn’t intending on interrupting Flora too much, but he takes another sip before a low chuckle leaves him to hear Safrin’s response. It felt like a Dygra kind of answer, if he’s being honest, but he hangs on her every word as she unveils it for him, painting the picture with a nod of his head.
It’s a lot of emotions that he can imagine got all knotted up until the final unveiling, like Safrin had been wrapping this present precisely in how she knew Flora would find it most surprising and appreciative, so he can’t help but to lift his glass of liquor in a small little toast to her. “That is a whirlwind, isn’t it?” He hums, shooting a grin back at her. “I do not know Safrin well, but given what I do know of her, it is not surprising that she would see your brilliant potential.” Inclining his head, mirroring her smile in a dazzling display of happiness for his friend. “How was the change? How different did you feel?” Then, suddenly, leaning forward a touch in a way that almost startles Sicarius, he grins at Flora. “Did your veins feel like they were filled with stardust?” It was reminiscent of the feeling he’d had when Safrin had healed him with the dreadful wicker woman, only he can imagine it upped to a ten thousandth degree.
Provided he’s right, that is.
Astaroth
// but i don't fear the dark //
