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[center][b][color=DC143C]Location:[/color][/b] Almack’s
[color=DC143C]“Your actions speak louder than words.”[/color] 
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	Fyror walked over to where Dr. Graham stood by Mrs. Wyndham’s side, glancing over at Emma as he passed by her. He gave her a small smile. It was meant to be reassuring, but it ended up coming out more pained. Unfortunately, there was not a whole lot he could do to ease the suffering that been so heavily dealt upon the Wyndham family. Such sorrow could not be so easily washed away. He would do what he could, starting with aiding Mrs. Wyndham. It mattered not that she had always treated him so vilely. He was not the type of person to disregard a person in need merely for his own benefit. Would her perception of him change if he were to aid her? He doubted it, but he would help her nonetheless.

	He bent down to take a hold of her from the opposite side that Dr. Graham held. He nodded his head in understanding of the doctor’s instructions. He made sure to get a good grip on Mrs. Wyndham, not wanting to drop her like he had done earlier. Once Emma cleared the glass tabletop, Fyror and Dr. Graham lifted Mrs. Wyndham in unison and carried the injured woman over to the table. They went slowly and carefully, making sure not to slip on the bloody concrete floor or trip over the broken objects that Emma had haphazardly dumped onto the ground. They then gently rested Mrs. Wyndham on the glass tabletop. 

	Fyror took a step back, letting the doctor do whatever else he felt needed to be done before transporting her to the hospital. His gaze then went over to Emma. He watched as she retrieved her mother’s reticule and other personal items from the two bodies. His brows furrowed slightly when she held back a gasp and picked up a locket from the beheaded Ryne. [i]‘Millicent’s mother,’[/i] he reminded himself. He felt another pang of sadness for all the Wyndham family had lost tonight. [color=DC143C]“Are you alright, Ms. Wyndham? Were you at all injured in the attack?”[/color] he asked politely and with genuine concern as he approached Emma. 
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[center][b][color=556B2F]Location:[/color][/b] Almack’s
[color=556B2F]“Maybe I’m not the person everyone thinks I am.”[/color] 
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	Thalken’s gaze did a sweep of the ballroom from where he stood alongside his twin sister Thalcona. The once panicked and violent atmosphere seemed to be calming down rapidly. He sheathed his sabre and switched it out for one of his throwing knives, not quite ready to let his guard down completely. Despite the fact that the Soulless were rapidly fleeing the area, he was doubtful that things were truly safe just yet. It was not lost on him the significance of Ryne, Hraew, and Cargast working together to coordinate a conjoined attack. The fact that they had left so quickly was a concern in and of itself. Either they had accomplished whatever heinous act they had in mind or they were fleeing something much more terrible to come.

	He leaned back against the banister as he twirled the knife in his hand. The same knife he had thrown at the Ryne, only to nick Millicent’s thigh instead. The blade still had remnants of her blood on it and likely still of the many victims before her. A brooding look came upon his face as he contemplated all that had occurred. He was lucky to not have more seriously maimed her. Initially, he had not even known that it was a Ryne attacking Millicent. It was a gamble really, based upon a primal instinct. Years of working as a mercenary had taught him to trust his gut and not to hesitant as it could mean your death. Though his knife had not met its mark, the gamble still payed off. It distracted the Ryne from Millicent, which probably had saved her life just as much as when he had beheaded the creature. He had saved a complete stranger’s life—and also traumatized her for life. Well, that nonetheless amounted to one of the most positive accomplishments he had done in quite some time. Perhaps he still had some goodness left in him. He could certainly use that in the days and years to come, as darkness can only get you so far.