[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#00ccff]Nora Kingston[/color][/h1][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/c074ca423628594deed94854f4ecfdfd/tumblr_inline_mm97qgDdEn1qz4rgp.gif[/img][hr][color=00ccff][b]Location[/b][/color]: the Museum [/center][hr][hr]	Nora nodded at Neema, swallowing thickly. She appreciated Neema's grandmotherly tenderness, but she did not wish to be a feeble woman of the [i]ton[/i] left on the floor after seeing the visage of a newcomer. Before she had even lifted her head, she heard another [i]thud[/i] as the other fainter once more relapsed into unconsciousness. She took another moment to collect herself, intending to sit up before answering Lauren. As she began to lift herself upwards, she came into the perfect angle to catch a glimpse of George's mask from where he sat on the couch. 

	Instantly, her head began to feel as if it was made out of cotton, and a clamminess went over her entire body. In a state of weakness and fear, she muttered hastily in Gaelic. [color=00ccff]"Lauren... Mo thinneas... Tá eagla orm go..."[/color] While she was a British lady, she had spent her formative years under the care of an Irish woman. It was not out of the ordinary for Nora, in moments where she was not the most collected, to slip into the language of her childhood. Her body went slack before she could fully explain her warning to Lauren, her head hitting the pillow once more as she too had fainted. 

	If she was lucky, the fainting spells were simply induced by glancing at George - yet even then, she had been ravaged by sickness as a child. With two lapses into unconsciousness so quickly together, it did not bode well for her health. Perhaps this was one situation where looks could truly kill - or at least, injure.