Razuel took a deep breath.
"Call it whatever you want, Were-girl," Ramael emphasized, savouring the word this time. "Way I see it, the more of us there are, the more chances we have of mounting some kind of resistance, even a successful counter-attack. Or would you rather mope about here and wait to be picked off? You CAN take a human in a one-on-one scenario...can't you, little cub?"
He couldn't help it. His heckles had risen now, and his youthful emotions came hammering into his head. He couldn't stand apathy, and he had tried being nice. Lounging about, getting stuck into a rut...the demon shook his head, his necklace rattling faintly.
"The humans are used to picking us off individually, or even in pairs. Imagine the shock if they see five or more of us, charging back at them. Red here has just handed us a gift-" He looked and smiled again at the scarlet demoness. "-not only have they lost their prized tracker, but she is now on our side. The odds are slowly balancing out. If they are fifty miles away, that only gives us more incentive. That's precious time to find others, if not for a battle, then at least to make sure they're safe. Here we are, bickering amongst ourselves, whilst the Crimson Flood gets stronger and closer. Of course, we could just stay here whilst the Flood singles out all the young or isolated of us and massacres them...couldn't we, Mika?"
Razuel knew he had pushed the line, but it was a necessary risk if it would spur some action.