Belial was on an errand, long black coat swirling and Nyctha watching intently from his shoulder. The large black hawk serves as the angel's eyes, his own white and blind.

He stops so abruptly at her words that the coat swishes forward before settling around his legs, wings shifting and rustling to maintain balance; both his oversized oily black ones and those of Nychta sitting on his shoulder. Blind he still turns to face her out of habit. He wasn't always blind.

"Do you have a habit of offending beings?" His voice is even, calm but commanding of attention.