Faelan was almost as shocked as Shula was, and in the cease fire, he smiled, the pains of a good fight already setting deep into his body. The warm wet heat of the blood dripping from his knuckles was almost comforting, it'd been much too long since he'd been able to break someone. He wasn't entirely sure if the blood was his or Shula's, but he imagined it was also from the few punches he managed to land on any demons dumb enough to get caught in between a hunter and a half dragon. Thinking about idiot demons, he wondered to himself if Thomas could stand yet.<br/><br/>In just a moment, he hopped over the bar, grabbing a bottle of something. It was on a higher shelf, and he wanted top shelf right now. Popping the top off made the bottle spew literal flames, a deep purple in color. After settling, he shrugged, putting the bottle bottom side up. Whatever it was, it was spicy, and tasted vaguely of vodka. Taking a few more chugs, he looked at the clapping demon washing down some blood with the booze.<br/><br/>"Pay better be damn good if you plan on paying me demon, skill doesn't come cheap," he said, the adrenaline still thick in his veins. He didn't care if Shula decided to follow him or not, it was none of his concern as far as he was concerned. Separation would cause pain, but it'd get weaker over time, or so he imagined. It wasn't even that uncomfortable, not as uncomfortable as dealing with a shitty excuse for a demon who couldn't move past his old life. Or being bonded to a demon who gave out his secrets. "And I don't kill kids or women without a good reason."