Lily smiled. 

He may have attempted to cover it up, but given his response she could safely surmise that she had beaten him in this verbal spar. Under normal circumstances, he would most likely have simply insulted her intelligence, or something equally petty. Yet he had resorted to something just shy of a threat, as if expecting the prospects of a violent death, to be would, of all things, intimidate a demon. She had heard a saying that someone who reminded others that they were King, was in fact no true king. It stood to reason, then, that one was no true leader, boss, master, or otherwise if seemingly empty threats was the reply, to jabs at the intelligence of their alleged leader. 

Of course that did not mean that Panoptos was not correct, in at least one of his statements. If they did not exit the Undersky, before their method of transportation disappeared, they themselves would end up stranded. So once again, Lily's body changed, contorting in ways that should have been impossible according to all known science. But Demons were not someone who often cared about petty things such as "Science." 

Two draconic wings erupted from her back, along with a long tail, and claws. As if to test them, Lily flapped her wings weakly a few times, causing her to lift off from the ground and come back down again with the audible click of claws on stone. 

For all of her bravado, and her attempts to look unfazed by her previous injuries, however, adopting her dragon-like appearance had taxed her. Not because the shape shifting in and of itself was tiring, but because what wounds she had sustained were no longer visible. They weren't healed, and she still remained as hurt as she had been beforehand, but her abilities allowed her to regrow the wing that had been destroyed, but at the cost of large portions of her fortitude. A combat move it would never be, as she became no healthier than she had been before and the cost was simply too high. It would have been easier to simply let it heal and regrow naturally, but to do so would not only be a show weakness; and would also be admitting that she had been wounded severely. More importantly, it would also make it annoyingly difficult to reach the Seal. 

So she forced herself to breathe evenly, to not look winded, and turned to Fenn. "Do you want me to carry you up there?" She asked, casting a glance at the shining Beacon for way of clarification. When her eyes fell back upon the hellhound, she found herself faced with an absolutely mordant look. "I'll take that as a no. Suit yourself." She then turned back toward the Seal, taking off with a powerful beat of her wings. Up to join her fellow agents of The Charred Council. 

And one insufferable moron.