Hearing the whispers regarding the newcomer, Baja slides a hand to his hip in readiness to both grab and fling a throwing axe at the ugly wing-devil-thing should any give the word.
Amused by the encounter with the current imp, Faustus taps his foot and looks around attempting to appear impatient, "I assume we should be getting along to our job, standing here I'm feeling like I need a good drink to entertain myself."