Lucifer isn't at all surprised by the manmade problems being the worst, but then, he's the one that will continue to see the tarnish of humanity, regardless how far he's come to accept a couple of them.

"They really are," he agrees, because of that small-percentile acceptance. He'll get his hands dirty for those people and it won't be animal blood. Might not even be blood.

"Don't forget that." That Lucifer's his favorite, that Istredd's never letting him go. It should feel like a cage in itself. Trapped. It should be something much worse than anything boundaries or knowing where their independence resides could correct. It doesn't. Not born out of desperation or a need Lucifer didn't realize was there or a fix to all his time alone.

It's just... something that is.

He reaches up with his free hand to flick flecks of drying blood off Istredd that Lucifer had put there much earlier. "Let's go amuse some townsfolk in the square. I still want that drink."

And really, actually, leave these woods.