they said fight fire with fire but i just got ash

Serafina's assurance that he would not meet his immortal death at the hand of some powdered rocks and a misguided witch aided by the breeze only served to prompt a soft grunt of acceptance from the man all the same. For all he feared off her magic he was more then willing to accept her authority on it. He knew something of magic to be sure and yet the vast majority of his life had been spent fleeing one spell or another cast at him with generally the sole intention of destroying him. Perhaps, by that notion, he could hardly be blamed for his overt wariness and ready disdain for many of those magical afflictions. Still- he hardly claimed to have the expert knowledge of an actual witch. If Sera suggested he would not die from breathing in the Loopy Lazi or whatever the hell it was then he suspected he wouldn't. Still, Azrael's decidedly grouchy mood in general was what had surely made the man near infamous in turn. The blonde Hunter content to scowl about the entire experience if only to show the world how disdainful it was before leading them both away from that section of the festival entirely and into a new area. He could still feel it in his nose. He was sure of it. Fucking great.

That new area they had reached, in the least, proved to be a distraction for them both. The Tarot cards Serafina busied herself were afforded the vaguest of glances by the Hunter before his own attention was drawn towards that singular tent, it seemed, that every other patron was drawn away from. He had always been observant. It was part of his very job to be as aware as possible of what existed around him even if only for his own safety. The way every other witch seemed to give that one tent a wide berth readily catching his attention as those golden eyes narrowed upon it. He could feel whatever magic it was that seemed to exude from that place. It was....different to that static feeling other witches and warlocks seemed to give his skin. This was something sharper, more direct and incapable of being ignored. It was uncomfortable in an entirely different way. Azrael almost sure he hadn't felt something like that before, or if he had, it had not been for a damn long time. There was something wrong with that witch. Sera's name fell softly from his lips then, Azrael gesturing to that tent. A part of the man curious as to whether or not Sera could feel that same magical signature. Could witches sense another's power? He'd never asked. He'd never cared to ask until now.

Whatever words had attempted to come to his lips were all but halted in the wake of Serafina's sudden confidence boost. The woman apparently of the opinion that she wanted to see what was going on in that tent. Fucking hell. Maybe she couldn't read those supernatural signatures after all. Either that, or her fascination with the macabre was about to get them both killed. That utterance that is was death magic readily saw the blonde man pause once more. Death magic was illegal magic the very sort the Council hardly ever even needed evidence to convict a witch with using. A detailed enough complaint often brought the Council down to the door of the accused and- more often than not- brought a death sentence with them. That dark magic something most Hunters would hardly take the chance on allowing to establish itself. This one of the first times Azrael himself had ever felt it in any sense.

Any protest he might have offered was ended by Serafina's hand entwining with his own and tugging him after her. For all his disdain at entering that tent he was hardly willing to allow the young raven-haired witch to go alone. He could feel his own affinities stirring within himself, ready to leap to their defence at a moments notice. Sera's hand tightening in his own giving away the womans own nervousness even despite that bright, cheery greeting she gave the rather silent old woman whom was staring at them so intently he was mostly assured she was trying to bore a hole in their backs with her eyes. Had they been anywhere else the man was mostly assured he would have argued with her further over just how bad an idea this was and if she knew it was such a bad idea then why were they here? As it was, however, the Hunter simply remained quite. His senses largely focused on the old witch even despite the effort he put in pretending he was interested in something he decided was probably a spoon and by far the least horrific looking thing on that table.

His effort to say something if only to give him an excuse to turn back and face the woman hardly seemed to prove fruitful in any sense. The witch declaring that 'spoon' to be eighty dollars as Azrael's eyebrows rose. The man unable to stop himself from protesting before Sera's tugging saw him let it go all the same. Azrael content to mutter about the fall of the economy and price inflation as they finished the circle of that tent. That exit in sight. Until that sound from somewhere close by near saw the Hunter pivot in response. That supernatural speed with which he did most things affording him time to see the woman attempt to cover that cage at her feet. The sandy coloured paws of the kitten however- battered playfully at that curtain. Giving its position away with ease as Azrael eyed it. His gaze shifting to what was left of any other cat that had entered this tent. That comment on her lack of license to sell wild animals trailing off at the realisation she hardly intended to sell it live.

Fucking hell. Why did this always happen to him? He didn't want a cat. An animal was just something else to look after and yet leaving the stupid thing here to die was almost an affront to his very job in protecting the innocent from those supernatural afflictions. Even if the innocent was a bloody cat. God he was going to regret this. His golden gaze flickered briefly down to Serafina before back toward the woman, asking after the price of that animal in its currently living condition. That five thousand dollar price tag prompting the man to near choke. Five thousand dollars! For a cat!. The woman was out of her fucking mind if she thought he was going to pay that much money for some stupid sand ca-. That tugging on his shoulder, perhaps fortunately, silenced whatever abuse he'd been about to offer the woman as Sera near frantically whispered in his ear. His girlfriend apparently of the assurance that this was a steal for an animal on the face of extinction. Azrael offering her an almost dubious look.

"I could get you five hundred regular cats for that! That's an insane amount of money. I really think you need to re-evaluate what you think a damn steal is because- oh your not even listening. I'll just talk to myself then. Oh for goodness sakes, I'll get it. An entire weeks pay on a fucking cat."

He sighed readily then as Sera continued to fumble around in her purse in some effort to put together however many credit cards she had to make up that money. Azrael reaching into his pocket all the same for his own wallet as he waved hers away. He had never asked the young woman how much she made. Her business was her own and he saw no need to pry into it and yet, he suspected, such an amount of money for the young woman would leave a decided dent in her funds. Azrael hardly about to watch his girlfriend go bankrupt. His attention turned back to the old woman then.

"You take AMEX right?"

The old woman almost eagerly nodded as Azrael offered her that American Express Centurion card, the mere sight of that fabled 'Black Card' seeing even that old lady pause as she held it. Azrael eyes narrowing even further as if daring her to jack-up that price even more. The woman, he was certain, almost regretting not adding another zero to that price and yet they both knew she had come to far already. That card was handed back to him a moment later. Azrael returning it to his wallet before bending down to open the door of that cage, scooping up that little sandy coloured kitten with its strange black banded legs. The Hunter handing it gently to Sera then as its tiny mews echoed throughout that tent.

"Here, you take him. Let's get out of here."

He was still going to report that woman to consumer affairs in the very least! Azrael content to lead Sera out of that tent then and away from that woman. The relief at being outside almost palpable as he ushered that pair as far away from that old witch as he could, pausing beneath a shade tree then to glance towards that furry bundle in Sera's arms.

"Let's see what five thousand dollars bought us then. Are you sure this thing is rare? It's so...small. I guess we better get him home. To your house though. He's not coming in mine."

Azrael