Broken Boulder thursday, i don't care 'bout you

He smirked as Delight had to backtrack, (not-so) secretly enjoying his awkwardness. Still, Zamael padded closer, closing the distance between them. He gave the expression of gratitude a brief nod, eyes glittering with amusement.

"Didn't have much of a choice in the matter," he said wryly. "But thanks. It was good, having you there. Kept me grounded. I've always tended to err on the side of 'freak the fuck out,' when it comes to Alarian getting beat up. 'Specially by fucking Runion." Rest in pieces, literally, you shitbag.

He canted his head to the side in apparent inquiry, staring down Delight. "You two seem close," he said in the most casual tone he could muster, as if they were discussing something incredibly mundane. "Closer even than I'd expect leaders to be. What's the scoop on that?" Delight didn't seem the type to lead someone on, but God help him if he employed that tactic now.

Not even God, really. Satan, with his hellfire, was more equipped to handle Zamael's volcanic wrath. Birds of a feather. . .