Blackfeather Woods Knock knock, a demons at your door

The demon was a painting, filled with dark colors, glowing hazel eyes, and a leer peering out from the abyss surrounding the shadows in their natural world, and never shifting - his guffaw had left her unfazed.  "Did you just laugh at a joke in your own head, or is my name that hysterical?" Sage inquired. 

Snake. What a fitting name for the black serpant, did he name himself that, or did destiny seem to fill up to a namesake's expectations, he even held the tongue of a snake. "That's up to you, isn't it?" It was strangely put, who was he eating. His mind was not set on any vole or deer, no he was refering to something that could think, talk, hold a name. It wasn't obvious whether or not he just had a morbid sense of humor, or was actually serious which made it all the more exciting.