Amara, the bird re-counted. This was her moniker. He'd never quite understood names-- not like a human, anyway. They were tokens of individuality, they defined a person-- but to him, it seemed more like numbers on live stock, a means to identification, than having any aesthetic or representation attached. Eirikur was one of many things he had been labelled with, and, the most likely to blur into society. The avian stood statue-esque behind her, happy enough to merely listen to human conversation. They were such... simple minded things. How nice for them, he supposed. 

'You mortals say demon the same way you say vermin. I assure you, Amara, I am no small matter.' It hurt his pride to think someone would consider him a little, petty hell spawn. He wasn't some familiar of an arch-demon, he WAS the arch-demon. They'd written scrawlings about him-- amusing ones, recounting their final departures, but all the same. His downy legs almost comically hobbled along the stone pathways, more discreet than flapping his way down the hall. It felt like an eternity would pass him until signs of progress showed themselves, and he considered himself a fortunately patient creature. He had to be, mortals took forever to do anything. Finally, privacy. Well, not completely, Amara was there, but he was in little position to be finicky. 'At last. You know the basics of equivalent exchange, don't you, Amara?" An eye for an eye, as it were. If the owl wanted a puppet body, he'd have to give something of equal value. 
Tawny wings spread. 

With them, darkness. The room gave way to nightfall, a fake disk served as a moon and the ground, little more than black sludge of which gnarly, rotten trees grew. Hands grasped for anything around them, Tobias, Amara, but none would dare touch the bird. It was unwise to sully his feathers with laments. Their bloodied, nail-less fingertips grasped all they could, with varying degrees of urgency, but only one body would be pulled under the murky earth, their to wallow in his sins for the rest of time.

Just like that, the vision was gone-- and too, was Tobias.

Left in his place a pale youth, a young man perhaps in his early twenties, pallor with blonde strands that fell across his face, over serious, aesthetic features. The humanoid struggled to stand from it's fallen position, smooth muscles of washboard build flexed and contracted like poetry in motion to see the demon stand upon two legs once more. If he were to have a mortal form, after-all, why not have one of the best? No one else expected inferior goods when bartering, and nor did he. Despite the pale, gentle smooth of his complexion, and the natural vibrancy of his hair, one thing stood out. His eyes, black of iris and pupil, not unlike the bird he had previously been. The eyes of something demonic, no doubt. "Much better. I should think myself able to traverse, now." Now that there was something coming between himself and mages, a spare body. 
Of course, he had to dance around a little to fit into the clothes Tobias had no doubt graciously left him. Eirikur hadn't been around in a while, but he was quite certain humans did not streak. "So, Amara. Now that you've summoned me, what shall you do?" Apparently Tobias did not matter, already a faded thought to the owl. He was annoying, anyway, but Eirikur didn't have to justify himself. "Our bonding, you see, isn't something you just throw away, or pick up whenever it suits your fancy. If you don't find some way to occupy me, I'm bound to find my own thing to do. After all, it's your soul that'll be dragged in with Tobias, should things go awry for you." It wasn't a threat, either, it was a guarantee. Of course, Eirikur didn't want to go back, but he omitted that part, if solely to coerce her into obeying. He was a demon, after all, she should have expected nothing less from him.

"I suppose you can start by showing me to my abode. Mortal bodies tire easy, and I believe we have much to discuss in privacy. Such as our terms, and what should become of them. We'll be seeing alot of each other over the coming days." He wanted to add on months, but... would be make it that long? Did she have what it took to turn her own world upside down-- well, it already had been, she probably already knew that much.  Soft footsteps rounded towards her, a hand motioned forth to take her own, before the suppleness of his fingertips raised her hand to silk petals in a chaste kiss. It was a greeting he had been taught, but never had truly utilized. "I'm sure we'll get along fine once we become acquainted, Miss Amara." 

Demons were terrific liars.

They knew exactly when to tell the truth, after all. 

"I'm yours, t'ill death do you part."

The way he whispered those words almost promised them.