"Máistir..." Set hissed out, its voice no more than a whisper. "Níl mé bodhar, Set." Cyril was quick to respond, a tad annoyed at the situation and taking out some of his annoyance on his daemon for assuming he didn't hear the Dokkaebi and his master. His eyes shut and he counted slowly to ten, letting the Korean close the distance. Before today he rarely spoke to a single person every few days beyond his instructors and his daemons, now he was becoming surrounded by people. It was certainly different and Cyril couldn't decide whether or not he was particularly thrilled by the development. "Silil," He said slowly, turning to look at the long haired man who referred to him as an over-the-counter sleeping aid, "That's how you'd pronounce my name in Korean." Cyril gave a quick glance toward where the girl from early should be, finding nothing. "My apologies," Cyril continued, looking back at the new addition to his party, "I don't believe I know your name, but as to what you said earlier. Loosening up is a dangerous thing while on a hunt. It's a good way to get yourself maimed or even killed. This isn't some game we're playing. We're likely hunting something that wants to kill us." As he spoke, he stepped closer to the Korean, his eyes staring sharply into the boy's.
"Quiet." He said sharply, his shoulders rising on edge at the distant sound of movement. His eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, finding the girl from earlier. 'Oh, just her' Cyril thought, relieved knowing that he wasn't about to be pounced on by something. The girl greeted them and seemed harmless enough, what with her holding a bucket full of water and having a minuscule daemon, a Banya if he remembered correctly, riding her shoulder. "Glad you could finally join us." Cyril smirked softly, giving her a quick look over. She didn't look particularly threatening, though she was a first year. They rarely were. He was going to say something about her hair, when a fresh sound put him back on edge. The nearby brush rumbled for no more than a second, a glowing set of eyes reminding him of a jack'o'lantern appearing within the foliage, seemingly fixated on his very soul.
"Back!" Cyril barked at the first year, simultaneously shoving back the Korean boy. Set and Thane reacted at once, Set's claws pulling back its hood, revealing a skull with tight almost translucent skin and burning eyes of blue flame as Thane's tome spilled open, its ethereal hands already dancing along the pages like a pianist. The beast burst forth as if it were awaiting a challenge, revealing itself in all its glory and all its horror, a form of darkness that reeked of brimstone. A hound from the depths of hell.