[h2][color=0072bc]Bartolomeo Peckish, Hunter[/color][/h2] 

As the large man who had clearly been attacked by something and followed by a large wolf kicked open the door, closed it behind him and then passed out, Bartolomeo had remained in his seat. If asked about it later he would have said with complete honesty it had been because he had wanted to stay out of the way of the healer woman that had clearly stepped up to rush to his aid, as well as those hunters closer to the man who had gone to move him to a better place to treat him. 

However, any eye that had bothered to glance his way during the chaos would have seen the truth; He had frozen at the sight. His inexperience had betrayed him as it was clear from the lost look on his face that he didn't know what to do in this situation and thus... did nothing. Granted, this wasn't the worst thing that he could have done since there were clearly enough people already jumping in to help the man that his well meaning but untested assistance would have merely caused more harm then good but that didn't change the fact that he just sat there, watching and listening with baited breath to find out what had happened as a gloved hand squeezed around the head of his sliver plated sword cane, bringing the weapon to rest on his lap so that it would be close at hand.

............................................................

[h2][color=f7941d]Draco Russ, Hunter[/color][/h2]
[i]Interacting with: [@Kitty],[@Ellion][/i]

The name 'The Pack' rang a bell of ill omen in Draco's mind, through it wasn't something that he had encountered personally before. The rare times when enough members of the Russ family had gathered together to classify as a reunion, stories of a group of so called 'hunters' who were more animal then man would be told from time to time. More often then not, the stories had ended somewhat badly with at least one person who was needlessly dead because of either personal disagreements or simple mistaken identity while in the field hunting actual monsters, not some lunatic wishing they were one. 
 
However, before Draco could have done anything with this new found knowledge, a man kicked in the tavern door while being badly injured and possibly on death's door himself. In the chaos that followed, Draco had stayed out of the throng of bodies that had rushed forward to aid the man or aim themselves to go out and try and find the thing that did it. Draco did neither of these things; Granted his weapon hung from his belt, so in the event that whatever had tried to kill the man assaulted the town or tavern in force he would be able to arm and step into action within a heart beat, but right now his focus and desire to help the situation rested in a different direction. 

Walking over to the waitress in the red hood who was currently trapped by a large wolf that had been one of the first to rush over to the injured man's side (clearly more distressed then just a random onlooker would have been for his well being), the masked man took a seat next to her. Originally his attention remained on the proceedings to see how the medical treatment was going, but soon he turned his attention to the girl wearing red. When he spoke, his voice was soft in his attempt to be comforting. The look in his eyes betrayed his intentions: He was trying to distract her from what was happening because there was nothing worse then seeing a loved one be hurt like this and being unable to do anything to help them. "[color=f7941d]I know this must seem like the strangest time for me to ask but... where did you get your hooded cloak from? It seems like it's really warm and well made and the shade of red suits you nicely.[/color]"