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

Ophelia offered a final friendly wave to the disassembling group, focusing primarily on the novice Hunters Moira had brought with her, and padded alongside Farren beneath the as-yet undrawn canvas of night. They returned swiftly to their earlier haunt and Farren began fiddling around with his blades as some sort of ersatz lockpick. Ophelia raised an eyebrow at this, wondering why he didn't simply knock given the clamouring of folks clearly audible inside, but she supposed that Farren--based on his attitude--was not someone who ever mingled with the common folk like this.

After he gained ingress the disgruntled inhabitants of the building met his aggression in kind, before recalculating and offering a more humble greeting. Ophelia responded to that in turn, unclipping the jar of eyes from her belt and kneeling down to hand it off to the little ones for safe keeping, and then following inside the building.

"We're sorry for the intrusion, love, we're just tracking those beasts that went at it earlier. I don't suppose any of you heard anything, did you?" Ophelia offered, letting her natural Yharnam accent become just a little broader and more common--there were few true Yharnamites left, it was true, but they'd been an insular bunch at the best of times before recent history. She figured perhaps letting the touch of it she still possessed take on a little extra vigour would endear them to her... their fear would probably prevent them taking it too badly.