[center][h2][color=#008b8b]Fionn MacKerracher[/color][/h2][/center]
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The cheer was less alarming than hearing the bloodied vampire start talking to herself in the middle of the ring of fire. He hadn't even been particularly worried that she [i]would[/i] break his arm—he'd been ready to lift her off her feet and shake her around if she pulled too hard, that probably would have been surprise enough to snap her out of it, and if not, they always had good healers around. Luckily, she snapped out of both quickly enough, turning back to him with another wide smile.

[color=#008b8b]"Eh. Frustrated, more like. Never quite seem to get what I'm hoping for."[/color] He shrugged, before pulling off his cloak and wrapping it around her, in case the scraps of clothes she had left managed to tear themselves apart before they could get back somewhere she could get properly dressed. [color=#008b8b][i]"You,[/i] meanwhile, are grounded once we get back to the city. You can have fun with things without getting [i]reckless,[/i] can't you?"[/color]

He simply refused to believe that a centuries-old vampire with monster slaying experience couldn't have figured out [i]some[/i] way to achieve the same end result without having to light [i]herself[/i] on fire in the process. Sure, Reon may have liked her a lot more than most vampires, but adding on that risk of self-immolation atop the dismemberment and everything else was too much for him to allow. Once he was satisfied that Tyaethe was well and truly covered—and fully put out—he drew back, pulling off one gauntlet and wiping at his cheek absent-mindedly.

[color=#008b8b]"Oh, right."[/color] The cheek which was, by now, covered with a thin sheen of blood, nearly enough to start dripping off his chin. With a silly grin, he turned, the wound facing towards Tyaethe. [color=#008b8b]"Taste any different, after what Fiadh's done?"[/color]