The Duke was gone, the sound of his horse’s protests and the loping of their hooves down cruddy roads was just an echo in his ears now. The room felt cold. As if the cloak of encroaching death was enfolding itself around him; which was utterly outrageous due to his high body temperature. It had to be the Transfer of Ownership. It left him weak and sensitive to his new ‘Master’. The first few days he'd be extremely aware of Ichabod. If his mood was off or if he was in pain. It irritated him. Ruin clacked him claws on the tabletop with barely controlled rage. They never should have shared secrets about their Magicks to the human race when they arrived in these lands! Taking his race’s name, Daemon, and turning it to fit their definition of a monster the second it benefited them… Cruelly calling them demons. As if they crawled up from the Underverse's hellfires instead of being born from nature's womb. Not to mention the fact that the Daemon race was being used like exotic cattle. Farmed for their organs thar could be used for medicinal or recreational use.<br/><br/>Ichabod spoke to the girl in the room who happily vanished into the back. Eager to flee the tension and danger of the outcasts he assumed. The beast listened to the haggard steps of this human dragging a chair behind him. Ruin bit at his lip at the insistent screeching of wood attacking splintered wood until it thankfully stopped as the human plopped down with a breath of exertion. Hairs rose on Ruin’s arms at this strange behavior. Hands itching to strike first and power coiling in the base of his stomach in preparation for its next move. But Ichabod began speaking, and not even issuing orders at that! Names and introductions were given. A name that Ruin already knew but such things as an exchange of a person’s name was a forgotten formality to him. Ichabod sighed speaking about the bet between the Duke and him. ‘<span style="font-style: italic"> A bet that worked well for me. </span>’<br/><br/>“According to this piece of paper your friend gave me, I’m supposed to order you to protect and serve me. But I’m not going to do that. I’ve never ordered anyone to do anything in my life and I’ll be damned if I start now. I do, however, request that you refrain from killing anyone. If you feel absolutely compelled to have a go at me, I suppose I can’t stop you. You won’t be the first person.”<br/><br/>The demon sat still for a few moments cyphering its words. It took the cup of tea being thrust into his hands nervously that made the laughter escape his throat. It was rather quiet thanks to the silence spell and more the broad shoulders of the demon trembling and slapping a hand upon the table to understand he was in a fit. He barely heard the rest of the man’s sentence as he carefully sniffed the tea still chuckling and taking a sip hoping not to choke. He downed the cup and stood eruptly knocking the chair out from behind him just as venison was sat on the table. Deftly reaching across the table in the direction of Ichabod’s voice his clawed hand captured a fistful of tunic and lifted the man out of his seat. ‘<span style="font-style: italic"> Naïve and foolish human. Your ideals are fiction or lies to trick me. </span>’<br/><br/>He could feel the human stiffen but felt respect at it not lashing out. The squeak of the serving girl running back into the kitchen barely bothered him as Ruin made a gesture to his head, making the sign of a crown then mushing his neck up to create a double chin like the Dukes. After doing that he raised that free hand and cut through the venison meat. It bled profusely with thick juices when Ruin smashed it like it had wronged him in a previous life. Like he was saying he’d kill the Duke and Ichabod was powerless in his grip to stop him then. He released the gambler and began to lick at his meat covered hand slowly like an animal. A gross representation that he’d probably eat the Duke too with those fangs he possessed. After that statement he bowed his head a little to Ichabod in sarcastic thanks and turned on heel to leave the Tavern the way he came in, feet confident despite his disability. That was when the Tavern Owner emerged from the kitchen with a butcher knife and fevered eyes.<br/><br/>“You bloody beast! I’ll run you through for threatening my customers and scarin’ meh gurl!” Ruin stopped dead in his tracks, blindfolded face turning slowly in the direction of the tavern owner and lips curling up in either a smirk or snarl.