"Dancing?" He asked as if she had never suggested such a thing to him before. This version of the man, this face, this life, Kennet did never danced or evidently looked as if he were enjoying himself. Dropping his walls for the witch while he was struggling had been a poor decision. No one understood nor asked about the fact that his walls had been in place to keep him from becoming comfortable in his situation. Management enjoyed complacency on some level.
Kennet sighed a sound of annoyance. "The Picatrix in its original Arabic. It's on human's gathering of magical knowledge." He drank once more before moving from the small bar to sit at the small booth usually reserved for employees to sit at when they initially came into employment or when they were being punished.