[Center]
[Color=6699cc][h2]Ghiar[/h2][/color]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kI28ff5rZvc&t=166s]♎		♎		♎[/url]
[/center]
[Indent]
[color=808080]
After the wraith dispersed into nothing, Ghiar transformed into his regular body. The gray man. Something made up of reflections, shadows, and different levels of transparency. Three claw marks could be seen on his chest, his shirt ripped and staining with a dark color that was leaking out of him. Where the wraith made contact, his body was solid and in a sense meant that part of him was weakened for the time being. Standing there, he decided to touch it, gently. A gentle press caused a shock to form in his body, "[i][Color=6699cc]Ah...[/color][/i]" he groaned at the feeling. It was not the best feeling, but he was not in any large amount of pain. 

Going behind the counter, he was trying to find rags. Something that he could use to put pressure on his wounds. Finding some old rags that appeared fairly clean; Ghiar picked them up, grabbed a bottle of cheap alcohol, and went over to a table to begin to tend to his wounds. He should not continue to fight in such a condition especially when there is an option to leave. 
Soaking up the blood, he would end up pouring the alcohol directly on his wounds before taking another rag and pressing it to the area. He was trying to make sure that he wasn't getting the table or ground too messy. 
[/color]
[/indent]