"If it weren't for you Shula, she'd still be a slave to that bloody cult. She'd be stuck working for them, failing to try and make more of you. And you didn't do what the cult made you for, you became a damned beautiful woman, a good one too. Imagine what her life would have been like dealing with that cult if they succeeded." His tone dropped as his mood did, the thoughts of Amelia's past bringing back bad memories he hadn't had to think about in a time he'd wisher was further back then it was. "You need to stop spewing that rubbish. She viewed you as the best thing that ever bloody happened to her." For being a hardened demon, living in a cursed pawn shop, the fact that he was crying too left him shaking. Trying to comfort the poor girl, he put his hand over her shoulder, and rubbed her head as he pulled her into a light hug. "As for that cunt outside, if you aren't going to try and break the bond somehow, maybe you can find a way to bash his head in just enough to make him a vegetable? That's all the better that cunt's good for any how." He let out a quiet chuckle at the thought, and just held her closer.<br/><br/>Faelan could tell Shula was upset, even through his haze of anger. It seemed to diminish him a little, and he stopped for a moment, resting on some of the logs he'd cut. Not only had he been chopping wood all day, but the sun beat down on him with a fury. It was almost guaranteed he'd regret tomorrow. In fact, the time he was sitting seemed to take it's toll already, and he sat there, panting, aching, and his anger seemed to be running on low. This isn't where he wanted to be. Gehenna of all places. What would Larentia think of this? Him being bonded to a fucking demon, living with the damn things? She could hardly stand him killing them, because she didn't want him around them. And yet here he sat, chopping wood in their realm, bonded magically to one. He'd known he'd fucked up just by how much he drank, and the amount of things he'd done just to get in more time to hunt... She would have killed him herself. He afforded himself a little chuckle, imagining her getting red in the face and poking him in the chest with her finger, in that way he'd always hated. Feeling his heart thumping roughly in his chest, he realized he'd give up just about anything to be able to get mad at her poking him in the chest, even just one more time.