He's found an odd nook to lounge in, comfortable, one leg propped up, the other hanging from a small ledge. How he got up there was only a matter of a simple flight. He's not even too focused on the book in his lap, despite Istredd's library being far more useful than Thorne's.

It's a strange sense of peace after everything.

"Everyone I know from Free Cities wants me dead," he calls out. It might be inaccurate, actually. He adds, "Probably." Because there's a few people that he doesn't know what faction they reside in.

It's why he only poked his head into the party for the barest of moments. He's awfully sure Geralt has a means to recognize people that doesn't go by sight, if from how easily he spotted Lucifer bundled up in a cloak.

Geralt might even leave him alone in that element. Castiel and the wildling too.

Dean and the blonde would likely not.