AND AREN'T I A FOOL ☆ training

[arcy]

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[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]One would think that, as a demon who'd been around for six millennium, Crowley would be fairly skilled in combat. One would be wrong. He could fake it, and he could use those demonic powers of his to give the illusion of a good fight. But Crowley was a coward, and he'd never actually bothered.
It should be noted that Crowley's demonic powers had not been working since he arrived here. This was new info to the serval, and it was, in fact, making him very nervous. Thus, Crowley concludes, it is entirely reasonable of him to want to learn how to defend himself. Now, Crowley can't attest to how well any of the people here knew how to fight, but Crowley could sure as hell conclude it was a hell of a lot better than him.
It was .. embarrassing, though. That he didn't know how to fight -- that he'd spilled the bare minimum amount of blood. Hence why, when Crowley slinks over to those gathered, he says nothing. The serval settles down near the group, head low as he tucks his tail over his paws.
Also, what was that about dragons? What the fuck.