"Well, ain't you a pretty picture?" Eying the composed man who stands around the bonfire, Hazel can't help but grin. The whole scene is chaos, demons whooping and hollering as boxes are thrown in a pile and the scent of burning pumpkin spice fills the air. And then there's this guy, basking quietly in the glow of it all.

"You look like you're pretty at home," she comments, taking a swig of her own drink. Much less classy, she's just carrying around a flask.