Daelith simply snorted in slight amusement when you chucked a handful of salt at him. He stood where he summoned. “That’s for ghosts, dear.” He pointed out, the salt taking no affect on him at all. Besides landing on his black tank-top. Tattoos & marks on full display.

He stepped over the lit candles, and out of the ritual circle. His barbed tail swinging around the crisp air. “Didn’t think this through much, huh?” Daelith rumbled at you. Running a hand along your chin, observing you. Before he pulled away.

His lips flattened into a line. “T’ shame. What do you want?” He got straight to the chase, if you didn’t want to make a contract for your soul- why should he even be here? He waited. His body language uncaring.