[B]Gratia Mindaro - Beacon Airship Dock[/B]

From her peripheral vision, the teenaged Huntress noted that her hair had elicited a negative reaction from the boy behind her. Not entirely unexpected; her locks had been long enough to easily cover the short distance between them, and the gust of wind that had blown by a few seconds earlier had definitely allowed them to assault the other teenager's mouth and nose. It was not particularly something Gratia would have usually cared for, and would have merely ignored the effects her hair had wrought on the other as its impacts on her would be minimal, but a whimsical thought came to mind, and she decided to address him.

An emotionless "[color=66cd00]sorry[/color]" immediately left her mouth. She wasn't actually apologetic in any manner, but she supposed it was ... polite at least, to pretend that she was. Engaging in common courtesy wasn't particularly her thing, and really, there had been no real need to deign herself to even address the teenager behind her, but, she had done it anyway.