// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
“Exactly.” Asta hums to Knell’s repetition. And in the moment that she digests the answer he’s given, the Butcher’s cane becomes malleable, the whip spooling in glittering shards of metal. And before she has a moment to really digest everything, Asta is prepping the whip and lashing out at the treeflit, slicing straight through one wing and watches as it falls to the ground in a jagged motion now that it’s lost one of the things keeping it afloat.
He’s prepping to draw the whip back and lash out again when Knell steps forward, stilling his hand as he inhales a slow breath to steady himself. She crouches next to it and Asta’s dark gaze dances between her and the treeflit, struggling and trying to get back up. But as she sticks her finger into the nub left behind and it writhes, twitching and trying to get away. It manages to roll a little bit away from her when she looks back at him and he realizes it’s his time to strike again.
The whip comes up and he slams it down again, slicing through the other wing until it flaps to the ground and takes the remaining life from the creature. Satisfied, Asta clicks the cane and forces it back into its usual hardened shape, drawing close to crouch beside her, his knee popping in the process. “Now, we take the wings for a boon of our offering.” And with neither of them being hungry to devour the remains, Asta’s content to leave it for the foragers of the Oerwoud.
He’s prepping to draw the whip back and lash out again when Knell steps forward, stilling his hand as he inhales a slow breath to steady himself. She crouches next to it and Asta’s dark gaze dances between her and the treeflit, struggling and trying to get back up. But as she sticks her finger into the nub left behind and it writhes, twitching and trying to get away. It manages to roll a little bit away from her when she looks back at him and he realizes it’s his time to strike again.
The whip comes up and he slams it down again, slicing through the other wing until it flaps to the ground and takes the remaining life from the creature. Satisfied, Asta clicks the cane and forces it back into its usual hardened shape, drawing close to crouch beside her, his knee popping in the process. “Now, we take the wings for a boon of our offering.” And with neither of them being hungry to devour the remains, Asta’s content to leave it for the foragers of the Oerwoud.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
