He made a, likely wasted, effort to chirp an explanation about what happened. Of course, he could not write or gesture anything with the guitar in his claws. All he could do to convey what he had endured was to tilt his head in exhaustion. Those demons had him constantly performing without a moment to rest.

He followed Flashpoint; he did not know the way out of here, and he needed to be near them to keep the group of lewd demons under control. He smiled as he looked at her and Deadlock. They must like each other, even if they were not saying it. But how much? He wondered.