"I'm not sure if you know this about me Shula, but fighting is basically the only thing I'm good at." Walking over, he sat down next to her. He pulled his sword off his back, laying it across his legs just to feel the familiar comforting pressure of the steel on his body. The quiet trickle of the river was pleasant, relaxing even. Leaning back, not quiet putting his feet in the water, he just looked up at the small amount of sky he could see through the trees. "It's not you Shula. I can handle you. But this..." he continued, staring into the sky, "Larentia would have hated this. She would have hated me getting bonded, the drinking, she didn't even want me to be a hunter. Now that she's gone..." He paused again, feeling the emotions coming from him, yet surprised it wasn't anger. He must have ran out of that yesterday.<br/><br/>"I had this dream last night, and it really fucking got to me. I don't know if it's because of you, or because I'm literally living my life in the single most horrid way she would have imagined, but even I can't handle this. I've spent my life killing shit much stronger than Thomas. And for much, much less. But now I'm sitting here, sleeping on his couch, on the run from the only people who'd reasonably give me work. I'm bonded to a demon, and every thing I had back on earth is probably being probed and ransacked right now." It almost relieved some of the weight to tell Shula how he felt, but he chided himself about giving a demon the satisfaction. All he could do at this point was rely on a demon to understand how he felt.