Camael arched a brow in question, but didn't lower her sword or changed her stance. The demon gave a sign of peace, but Camael didn't trust it. Who could trust a demon, especially someone like Abaddon. "The company?" She scoffed, a haughty air once again surrounding her. "Well I don't enjoy yours, so run along now."

When Abaddon turned his back and drew in his wings, Camael almost felt his pain. The breeze brought the coppery smell of blood, and the angel dropped her stance. The tip of her sword met the cement as she attempted a step forward, but stopped herself before she did so. "Are you okay?" That was all she would allow. Angels were natural creatures of sympathy, and she couldn't deny the concern over Abaddon's state. Still, there was a thin line that couldn't be crossed, so that small bit of concern should be enough, right?