Shula was pressed up against Faelan's chest, not necessarily liking the position but too scared to move. The last thing she wanted was to be caught, locked up, and drugged again. After the initial panic had passed she let out a sigh. Wincing, she tried to menuver her self trough the closet, leaning more into Faelan and reaching back to remove a wooden pole that had jabbed her in the back. The demon realized she was practically hugging the man and she leaned back, the lack of room not helping in the effort to gain distance from him. The alarms were still going but they surprised weren't as deafening in the tiny closet.<br/><br/>"It's fine." She said, her eyes adjusting to the dark. Looking around the closet was dim, even for her good eyes. "I swear to fuck, you picked the tiniest most cramped closet in this damn place." She said, attempting to get more comfortable. She stepped on the end of a mop, sending the stick forward where it whacked her square in the face. She cursed, her tail brushing against the wall and more poles and throwing off her balance. It was clear she was getting frustrated.<br/><br/>"Fuck, I think the end of my tail is stuck in the mop."