[@Plank Sinatra][@Write][@Silvan Haven][@HereComesTheSnow]
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/foO0yFo.png[/img][/center]

"[color=66cd00]His blood has healing properties. Take it.[/color]"

Gratia's flat, impassive tone brooked no argument. She wanted a proper handle on the situation before it became excessively irksome, and the wounded young man before them could and [i]would[/i] give her the information she needed to know what the fuck was going on. One such piece of information was why exactly he was he pursuing a blonde Mistralese woman and how it related to him throwing a corpse into the ocean. The question on the whereabouts the southern girl was not one she could answer; none in the filthy masses had stood out to her as possessing such a notable appearance.

It was likely that the young man was pursuing the woman of that description in some fashion. It explained the mention of a pseudonym. However, it had, irritatingly enough, still failed to answer [i]her[/i] questions.

"[color=66cd00]I will repeat myself: who the hell are you?[/color]"