"I'm...not really hungry anymore," Urushihara replied, his wings having faded but his tone still very stoic. "To be honest, I'm just tired." And sore. "The sooner we can go home, the better."

He felt better, now that they were out of the suicide forest. Not a lot better, however; his body ached terribly, and he felt as though too heavy a step might cause him to break into pieces. Though he knew better than to blame Maou for what had happened, it was still difficult to look him in the eye.

More bothersome was the fact that all that negativity had stemmed from somewhere. Which meant, deep down... Maybe Maou really did resent Urushihara, perhaps even hate him.

Somehow, that hurt worse than the bones he was still setting. Humans bodies were so weak. He wiped the blood off of his cheeks, finally daring to glance up briefly at Maou. "Shall we?"