// and rise with me forever across the silent sand //
“Mm, what does it make you if you have two out of the three qualities?” He asks, amusement flickering in his face before he’s getting the bib placed on himself in the meantime. The crackin’ crab is also something the Butcher feels like he needs to squirrel away just as Danta needs to keep his. And when he picks up the shell cracker and Danta snags the tongs to snap at him, another low laugh leaves him as he shakes his head. “As do you, darling. Perhaps it is not your teeth I need to be worried about.” He raises a brow.
But of course, by then the food has arrived and he can already smell it before she’s dumping the bag of it on the table – the chaos of the food spreading and sprawling, the melted butter stretching its long fingers out toward the edges. “Good. I am quite glad, darling.” He purrs, shifting to sit up a little so he can reach out to snag the steaming hard boiled egg, making quick work of it (and it’s almost uncanny how snakelike the Butcher is with how fast it’s devoured).
Already the butcher’s fingers are glistening with the butter, but rather than immediately cringe from it, he reaches for a crab claw instead, cracking it and offering the meat of it to the Maverick with a warmer glint to his gaze. “I will say that seafood in Torchline does feel far superior to what we get in the Grounds.” Comes the quiet admission, like he doesn’t want to announce it too loudly lest Flora night surprisingly hear about it from whomever might be listening in.
But of course, by then the food has arrived and he can already smell it before she’s dumping the bag of it on the table – the chaos of the food spreading and sprawling, the melted butter stretching its long fingers out toward the edges. “Good. I am quite glad, darling.” He purrs, shifting to sit up a little so he can reach out to snag the steaming hard boiled egg, making quick work of it (and it’s almost uncanny how snakelike the Butcher is with how fast it’s devoured).
Already the butcher’s fingers are glistening with the butter, but rather than immediately cringe from it, he reaches for a crab claw instead, cracking it and offering the meat of it to the Maverick with a warmer glint to his gaze. “I will say that seafood in Torchline does feel far superior to what we get in the Grounds.” Comes the quiet admission, like he doesn’t want to announce it too loudly lest Flora night surprisingly hear about it from whomever might be listening in.
Astaroth
// and the stars will be your eyes and the wind will be my hands //
