She nodded softly and rushed to the bathroom. She snatched a washcloth like it was the holy grail, then sped into the kitchen like a cheetah on meth, tore open the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle. Not pausing to consider anything, she returned to the living room. Or the dying room. She didn't know. Mattie thrust the items toward Jacob and tapped a foot on the ground nervously. She didn't want Nicholas to be killed, but if it had to happen, she really didn't want to witness it. 

"Do you have, um, drinks?" she muttered. One thing was sure. If Nicholas was going to die, she was going to drink away the grief. Why she knew she'd grieve, she didn't know. After all they [i]had[/i] just met. But she felt sure that they were friends. Who the hell gets a friend for one day and then dies? That was fucked up. 

"Stupid fucking sage burning piece of shit," she hissed, referring to the former hippie who had bitten Nicholas.