[ Valmont rubs his wrists and stares hazily at the proffered hand. He feels like he should be saying something at this point, cursing at Satanick or refusing to touch him or anything he'd say under normal circumstances, but for once, there don't seem to be any words left in him. Even if there were, he doesn't think he could summon up an actual will to argue, or to do much of anything else, really. He's just tired. He's so, so tired.
So he takes Satanick's hand and lets the demon lead him where he will. ]
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So he takes Satanick's hand and lets the demon lead him where he will. ]