The Psycho, The Devil, And The Demon

He practically danced on his feet as he followed his sister, stopping when she did and listened to her words. "Aaww alright." He whined, clearly he wasn't pleased with this rule but he would obey it nonetheless. If his sister was right, then Diablo would have no choice but to listen to her. He didn't want to risk her position, whatever it was. He watched as she called for his person, the one who would apparently judge him or...accept him, as she called it. So with impatience, he would sit. Gnawing at his foreleg to rid himself of the itching caused by the flood of fleas he had, though they were hardly noticeable thanks to his shaggy black coat. And then, he caught the scent of blood. It made him practically drool, for there was nothing better then the scent of blood, and when he glanced up to see where the source of the smell was coming from, he spotted a white male with the deep red markings upon him. Tilting his head, he wondered if that was him.

Sure enough, the moment the man had stopped before them, Ylva began introducing him. So...this was the man his sister fawned over? Interesting. "Sin, an interesting name for an interesting looking man." A smirk of bared teeth arose on his scarred maw, amber eyes remained unblinking. "My sister must adore you to carry around a bunch of little troublemakers. It's about time I meet the devil who seeded her." He nudged Ylva's shoulder playfully, a small giggle emerging between them.

"Speech"