He beams once she agrees,  but then his features settle into skepticism again. What kind of demon did he want? Honestly,  he hadn’t exactly thought that far. A hum rings in his throat,  and he begins to bounce his leg.  “I guess something cool. Maybe something less likely to kill me -- would be pretty sad if I died before I even tried my birthday cake, y’know?” He leans his back against the bench, eye travelling to the side. “Maybe an interesting kind of demon. Would be cool if I could talk to it.”

‘ haha, so this implies you can be horrible all year and still get a present if you behave a few weeks before christmas, right? i dig it. ’