She's not particularly mollified by his excuses, especially if her glare is anything to go by. But after a minute of staring him down, her wings tighten across her form and she turns, taloned feet stepping lightly over carpet. No, she's not sitting, yet, but she won't loom.

For all that he has a few good inches on her.

Instead, she stops and eyes the circle smudged inexpertly at her feet --the runes are atrocious, for all that the binding marks are correctly placed-- before tilting up her chin. "Had you slanted these in the opposite direction, you would not have lived long past midnight." He does not appear harmed, but: "Are you certain you did not spill blood?"

"Most mortals are not capable of calling into the higher planes and opening a tear large enough to allow for reconvergence." It was not her first foray into this world, after all. Then after a some consideration, she shrugs. "..Don't be. This state of affairs is far preferable to being summoned on the whim of impotent men who's only demands are gold, assassination or power, or some combination there of."

And without a single thought about the consequences. Then again, this one wasn't all that different in that respect.

"What do I call you." Master isn't an option, green eyes warn with a hint of glow.