Primal Devils were not common. They were Devils who never experienced death, being as old as time itself. Falling Devil was one of them.

"You know, I'm intrigued," She spoke as she bent down to reach out with a long arm to grasp a fruit from a basket. "No one ever offered to serve me in such a way."

In one scythe-like appendage on her back she carries a bag of ingredients for her next meal. The other curl into her back as she brings the fruit closer to her face for examination.

"You must've been either so afraid or so dense to think of that kind of solution." Nonetheless, Falling Devil appreciates your company. All the other humans in the store are merely ingredients waiting to be snatched by her.