Ambrosine was late to the party. She had to deal with a couple minor burns and set a few broken bones. Someone got rowdy at a bonfire, so she was stuck cleaning up the mess. Once she walked through the door, the distinct odor of medical cleaning and old blood wafted into her nose. With a grim, [b]"Hmmmmm,"[/b] she looked around to try and find Cider. She saw many of the usual suspects in the safe house. After all, she saw virtually all of them as recruits. They seemed oddly riled up, so whatever happened required her attention.

Not seeing Cider right off the bat, Ambrosine cleared her throat and loudly spoke up. [b]"I smell a clinic. Who is injured? Why did it happen? Most importantly, will a standard dose work for them?"[/b] She flipped up the flap to her medic bag and brought out a syringe full of painkillers to add emphasis to her point. Her other hand closed the door behind her. With that, she began to patiently walk through the safehouse, her steely gaze scrutinizing every member's current health as if to try and seek out who decided to start bleeding near her.