Mable was simply walking back to the Academy, that evening. She had no watch on, no track of time, but judging by the way it was quickly darkening, she assumed it was around 8pm. The orange glow of the streetlamps reflected off her white hair and pale skin, and she pulled at her bodywarmer idly. She had the distinct fashion choice of someone spoilt rotten, and by the looks of her young age, she had the vulnerability to match...but, surprisingly, she wasn't the one in trouble.

Just as she was walking past the warehouses, she heard the screams. Distorted and agonizing, it sounded like a woman in trouble, echoing from the further reaches of the district, just swimming out of her hearing range...but the pitch-heavy silence and darkness sharpened the nosie enough for Mable to hear it. She also saw people closing in. [i]"Ah yes, this is Guardian territory..."[/i] murmured Mable under her breath. She turned to walk away, but there was a hesitation, a pause. In hindsight, it was a vital pause - her sudden change of opinion most likely saved a life.

Mable approached the entrance to the warehouse and instantly wished she didn't. She saw them all, preparing to fight a measly 3 other people, and heard them approaching the exit - but for the briefest of moments, she also saw the blood. That's when she moved around the corner of the warehouse in a frightened sprint, her sneakers muffling the noise.

She waited for a few moments, counting the 10 who disappeared off into the night, and frowned. Perhaps the other two were detained by the Guardians? Mable didn't know, but she went to have a look anyways. What greeted her sight happened to be a bloodied, beaten woman with a throat wound that was bleeding out heavily onto the floor. Mable caught her breath in her own throat, trying not to vomit at the sight...but she couldn't figure out why the others weren't helping her. They were Guardians! This woman will die if she isn't seen to in the next 12 seconds - what were they up to?

Of course, there was a time and place for split-second decisions. Mable weighed up her options and assumed that the Guardians would protect her and this woman from their attackers, otherwise she was about to step into some very deep trouble indeed.

A bright white light blossomed around the dying figure of Ashlynn, streams of white light twirling into intricate stems - like a mix between a flower and a spider's web. These glowing fronds seeped into the weaker cuts and bruises, but most of them slid across her bloodied skin and poured into the holes in her throat, which were being covered by Mable's hands to stop any more blood from spurting out. She looked genuinely terrified - after all, she was quite young compared to the others, and this was one pretty dangerous wound she was healing. Not to mention that those attackers could land on her back at any time and probably rip her to shreds.

She looked Ashlynn in the eyes, watching her life slip away, and was so thoroughly determined to not let her die that she put her all into the healing. The only part she held back on were the bruises, focusing entirely on healing anything that was bleeding. She couldn't lose any more blood...

But on the other hand, Mable wasn't experienced and it was showing through quite clearly. Whilst she did have some intricate raw power which has clearly been tempered by lessons, without the refined addition of experience, Mable herself was burning through energy like tissue paper. One of the most likely people to be able to see this would be Jason, what with him being a Primary White Mage himself.

And so she sat, in the pool of concealing blood, getting her expensive bodywarmer utterly ruined. Mable was shaking, but not from the cold; her violet gaze swept across the warehouse, looking for anybody who could help Ashlynn - or, better yet, help herself. But finding no such support she continued on wearily, making it her duty to try to fix this woman's wounds and putting her trust into the Guardians.