[center][h2][b]Ophelia[/b][/h2][/center]

Ophelia branded each of the Hunters dutifully, though only Victor did she give a small and wan smile to. As she performed the work she spoke back to Moira, offering a quick glance to Farren as he spoke but otherwise remaining trained on what she was doing.

"It is mine, after all, since the Witches are gone. They would want me to protect Hemwick, but... my Hemwick is gone. So I turn to you, my new brothers and sisters, and offer you what protection I can. Take any advantage indeed." Ophelia spoke, though her voice was soft and rueful. Memories flitted across her mind's eye like little sprites, happy ones and sad ones, filled with love and grief and light and dark in equal measure--but she did not let herself reminisce about what was. It was gone, now, and there was no bringing it back--there was only this new life that she'd been suddenly thrust into. Practically everyone she'd ever cared about was dead now, dead or... something worse. The Blood Moon had taken so much from her, and even as she avoided letting the memories engulf her she saw the pattern in their traces--that night, years ago, would play out again tonight. She was certain of it, thanks to the little hints offered by the Messengers, and a feeling of almost-deja vu that she couldn't quite shake.

"Ah, I am Ophelia. I had wondered if Victor had shared our names already, but I suppose it's just polite to introduce ourselves either way. We'd be happy to join you on your hunt, love, if you'll have us... green as we are. Freshly turned tonight, and reeling from the magnitude of it all. All that I would ask in return is for a few motes of your guidance, you who have trodden this path before. Shall we move?" Ophelia finished, a sudden sharpness and clarity coming over her as she processed her feelings and let her mind return to the state of sharpness that it required for the task ahead.