Husk wasn't one for all the chat. He preferred chugging down bottles of whiskey nightly before any conversation sparked between him and other demons. He sat at the bar in the hotel, per usual, taking occasional sips of his cheap booze as he wiped down glasses. He watched as you came downstairs, his ears perking at the sudden creaks.

He looked back down at the cup he was cleaning, his usual deadpan expression stuck on his face. Once you sat down at the bar, he slipped you a glass of whiskey.