[There's only the slightest raise if her brow at the innuendo, yet she still doesn't falter - keeping her eyes focused on his even as he leans in.

But then he's leaning back and she snaps back to the present moment, crimson meeting crimson as she watches him; it's... strange. It would be easy to roll her eyes and wander off, as she's wont to do, but she finds she doesn't want to.

And then he's straightening up, and she snaps back to the present. Blinking for a moment and canting her head, the last remnants of her previous temper flickering away - cooling off as quickly as it flared up.]

Belial, huh... [A pause and then she nods, that faint smile appearing once more.]

I'm Anastasia, though just call me Ana. My grudge against the old man is... personal, you could say. [Which is all she's willing to say on the matter.]

An old hand, you say... Does this mean I can ask you for some tips and tricks?