Crone gasped in slight fear as Hana’s determined and rightfully angered face erupted from his removed hand. The air felt thick and potent, a magnetism so strong he could almost feel her glaring daggers stabbing in his direction. The man simply stood before her, taking in all of her criticism with a strangely eager smirk stretching across his face. How he dearly wished he could slip into his wolf self just to absorb her words filled with hate. “You should be bloody thankful that stupid book of yours has taught you something, then, girl! This is kind of how I’m able to live, so<span style="font-style: italic">sorry</span>for tryin’ to survive in this stressful ecosystem of demons and annoying incognito witches with<span style="font-style: italic">weird</span>smells coming outta your souls!” With a frown, Crone raised his hands in front of his face in sarcastic apology, slowly growing aware of the teardrops peeking at the corners of her eyes.<br/><br/>Although a demon that craved the darkness of one’s soul, sadness was different to anger. Melancholy was bitter and sour, a totally different flavour to the richness that was the taste of revenge and deceit. Feeling the girl’s aura start to grow into exasperation, Crone did something that he would’ve never done had he not been zapped by a witch. Maybe it was the fact he had become human, maybe it were due to the late, late hour that this night had turned to... But Crone took a slow step forward, slowly sunk to a crouch, and gave an inviting, persuading stare up at the mage. “Don’t get me wrong,” Crone stated, realising that his actions seemed odd, “I’m not trying to be nice here. Nice isn’t really my thing. But look, the air tastes all gross and bitter now. Stop tryin’ to hide being sad - it’s written all over your weird ass soul. So, turn me back now before you become tasty again and I’ll get out of your hair. Okay?” Sinking in his human heart was the strange feeling of sympathy - tears brought strange memories that triggered back to his formation...<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">‘Crone. You have to murder him, seek revenge in my woe. He’s ruining me...’ </span><br/><br/>Snapping out of the flashbacks taunting and echoing through his mind, the man proceeded to make a full bow at the witch. She had found his trigger, the lock to Crone’s stern and stubborn soul, the command that he couldn’t help but be swayed by. “Nah-ha, I hate you... But feel lucky in that I am sparing you. I’ll help to repair the damage I’ve done in return for letting me go.” Crone repeated, having no other option left. He never favoured resorting to being looked down upon, so doing this showed how desperate he was to be sent free again.<span style="font-style: italic">‘Yes, girl, I am a real fool... Though my poetry is human-grade amazing.’</span>He thought, musing over his next reply as he looked wishfully toward Hana. Above all else, demons were naturally shallow when trying to be charming - their true intentions underlining the fact that all they ever crave is a delicious meal.