Bright Mouths

There was a demon at the end of the table, sitting upright like a man, hands folded atop the polished wood, wearing a storm-grey uniform with shoulder patches and bars that no doubt indicated rank to those that could read the language of insignia, skin sickly pale, easily half a head taller than anyone else around it; and its strange yellow eyes fixed on Tenzjin the moment he walked into the room."