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[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/6f4cc1bf-4142-4feb-a2dc-2df146ed7605.png[/img]
[sub][color=c0c0c0]Blessed are the imbecilic, for they feel no pain.[/color][/sub]
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[color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Marketplace near St. Paul's Cathedral [/center]
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	This wasn't the first time that Mary had been in the center of an angry mob. Nor the second. Where the Soulless were concerned, the emotions of men ran high, focused completely on self preservation. Sometimes at the cost of their humanity. This particular case, though, Mary had to extend the barest tendril of understanding. While it was semi-common knowledge that some few trained by the Vatican can attempt to prevent Soulless infection (for lack of a better term), it was also semi-common knowledge that it was not a fully reliable ability. Hence, these people that either didn't believe that it was possible to prevent Infection, or knew that it wasn't foolproof. Either way, they were scared. 

	Reverend Clerc reappeared on the scene, none the worse for wear. Mary hadn't heard the distinctive report of her magnum bore howdah gun. Unless something surprising was revealed, she surmised that the Ryne had escaped. For the meantime, the boy was saved. The Anglican had chased off the Ryne. Not ideal, but not a negative resolution to the event. Live to fight another day. 

	Well, unless the crowd had their say. Scared men and women doing what scared men and women do. Luckily, the Reverend gave them an earful. Maybe it was enough to sway their hearts. Just in case it wasn't, Mary took further precaution: As Jacques berated and scolded the gathering crowd, Mary pushed up a sleeve, revealing a forearm wrapped in black cloth. Useful if one wants to avoid the bite of something particularly nasty or a stray knife slash, alternately, it makes excellent cordage for more utility uses. She swiftly unrolled it, and used it to bind the unconscious child's hands. Thinking on the specifics, she also wound it around his mouth. 

	Mary knew that the child was fine. The Good Lord knew the child was fine. But the group of irate Londoners might need a little hand-holding before they came around. [color=c0c0c0]"The child is unconscious and restrained."[/color] she announced in a loud, clear voice. Her eyes narrowed, and she hefted the boy over her shoulder. [color=c0c0c0]"He is also perfectly well. If it will placate the [i]mob[/i], I shall place him under the care of St. Etheldreda's Church for the next three days and nights. If he relapses, I will fulfill my vow as a representative of the Order of St. Sylvester. You know what we do."[/color] If they wouldn't respond to her role as a Healer, she at least hoped that her reputation with the Church would be of help to their current situation. It would be a dark day indeed if the time came where she allowed a mob to tear a child apart without challenge. 

	Balancing with her halberd, Mary rose to a full standing position and began walking back to her horse. Market time was obviously done. She needed to get this kid behind walls, and soon. 

	[color=c0c0c0]"Someone should inform his parents."[/color] Her voice was calm. Her eyes were not.