Eventually, the Witches sighed in acceptance and turned to formally address Wolfe.
"I accept that I owe you my life for taking in a Deserter, and I swear that I will not make trouble for you or yours." The closest of the Witches informed him, then reached up to touch her throat where the mark had formed.
"I'm fine, it doesn't hurt, and my mind is still my own." She informed the others.
With that final assurance, the rest of the Deserters joined in, repeating her words and checking out the marks that had formed on the necks of those around them.
"Isn't there a less sketchy Demon to swear on?" One of the last holdouts muttered, putting off swearing the oath.
"I could call Little Reaper over here. He's always bored and looking for someone to hang out with him. I'll bet he wouldn't mind vouching for you. Or you could go for a Fae Pact instead, or even ask our resident Kitsune to vouch for you. She's a real sweetheart." Wolfe suggested.
