"I've lost more than half a gallon of blood and been able to keep fighting before." Deviathon said as though losing that much was a regular thing. At her expression to that, he smirked. "Oh I get it... you still don't know how I can tolerate all this pain." He said, not quite understanding that a normal human would die losing two or three pints of blood. As she removed the spear he sighed as a black-green blood started to ooze out. In mere moments, there was at least a quart of the stuff oozing down the bathtub drain. "Haelatos Cometalla!" he muttered, his hand above his wound. The wound seemed to close itself after a moment, and he stood up.<br/><br/>"Sorry if I worried you." He said, noticing a pale expression he was sure was not healthy for a human. "Are you alright? Could I get you anything? As far as courtesy goes, what am I to call my hostess?" he asked. "And could you show me how to work the..." He quickly searched her memories for a word. "Shower? I need to wash of quite a bit of blood and dirt."