[An instinctive scoff at the idea of demons having friends, but she shakes her head afterwards. Control is key, even as her instincts scream for her to run or fight. So her tone is strained and formal as she responds.]
Demons have killed or maimed anyone I would care to call friend. Forgive me for my brusqueness. I believe you have an appointment to keep.
[Still, looking away, refusing to put her eyes on him in case it stretches what she’d considered iron-strong control]
no subject
Demons have killed or maimed anyone I would care to call friend. Forgive me for my brusqueness. I believe you have an appointment to keep.
[Still, looking away, refusing to put her eyes on him in case it stretches what she’d considered iron-strong control]