hellinabentley:
The demon looked mildly repulsed at the femur, but he didn’t comment. He’d seen worse. Still, just the idea of eating a human churned his stomach. They had never seemed like they’d be particularly good for the digestion.
“Well, you’ve got all the time in the world to figure that out, haven’t you?” he asked, perhaps a bit rhetorically. He knew that grims were immortal, more or less. They were like an extention of death. At least, that was the way he had always understood it. Which, unless he had been mistaken, meant the boy really did have all the time in the world.
“Until i age.” he commented, “Then i’ll die.” he hummed and stretched for a moment, “I should be chasing you out but this isn’t my graveyard and i haven’t spoken to anyone in a long time.” he admitted softly, eyes soft and tender as he looked towards the stones waiting for something to jump out at him as he put the femur in his jacket.
Well now Crowley almost felt bad for the grim. Which was something a demon wasn't supposed to feel. But he did want to help the poor creature.
"Aren't you immortal?" he asked. "I thought you lot - reapers and grims and all of you - were like an extention of Death. And even the antichrist, with his ability to rewrite the universe, couldn't kill Death. I didn't think you could age. Or die."
