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

Ophelia could see plainly the confusion on Torquil's face, the racing of thoughts behind his frantic and searching eyes. It was almost unusual, given how he'd been so eager to simply follow without considering... but given the face he now wore, and the experiences they'd had, it would be a miracle to come out unchanged. She supposed this was evolution, the kind that the School of Mensis' teachings--and thus the whispers of her mentors--had impressed upon her were the next step for humanity. Ophelia didn't know how much she believed that, that this was or should be the destiny of all, but Torquil's growth was something she found very pleasing. She wanted what was best for him, truly, and he was now getting to the point of earnestly being able to make that decision for himself.

"Just discharge Fulmen, dear. We need to know what happens." She said hurriedly while he prepared and then injected himself with a blood vial. She could sense that he was eager, that the Old Blood ran hot within him and needed release--the kind that was only achieved through the visceral acts of violence only Hunters ever truly experienced. Looking at the Shopkeeper, she wondered how much of that feeling they must have glutted themselves on in their many lives to have suffered such an awful blow and still been able to retaliate with such determination and fury... in fact, it struck her in that moment that she was perhaps the only not not utterly consumed by bloodlust at that moment in time. She wondered what sort of Hunter she'd been if the Holy Moonlight Sword hadn't chosen her, how different their lives and experiences would have been if she'd only had the fire in her blood to guide her rather than all the lights of the Cosmos.

She watched Torquil rocket off towards Arrayah with great speed and circled around herself to get a better vantage point and be able to observe Arrayah more closely. To the best of her knowledge she was still the only one whom one of Arrayah's eyes was not focused on - which struck her as odd, given how desperately the Profane Abyssal Blade must have called out for the beast to wrest Ophelia's blade and make them whole. She remembered well the intensity with which her serene blade called for it--and had to figure that the Profane blade's call was even harder to resist. She made a note to try and discern how much of the tactics at hand were Arrayah's and how much the blade whispering to her--a difficult proposition, given her lack of ability to read minds, but she would try her best to intuit as much as she could.