Perhaps it was just luck, or maybe even some brand of a miracle that the bottle missed every foot, hoof and wheel that was moving through the crowd. It bounced and it rolled, ending up disappearing beneath one of the benches and coming to a halt finally at the heel of the only one seated in the market's center. Gray bristled, startled by the sudden tap against his foot, but did well not to spring from his place. Instead, he lifted his foot and the bottle rocked into his line of vision. He cocked his head, a silver brow raised as he wondered what exactly was inside it. Would he be hexed just by touching the glass? He had never such a concentration of black before, and it was so viscous that it had coated the entire side of its container.<br/><br/>He had to get back to his watch. With caution flung to the wind, he bent to grab the bottle and stood to find its owner. Surely something like<i>this</i>wouldn't be easily discarded. But instead of a disgruntled delivery goblin, or a spilled cart, he only found an odd looking creature on the ground, clamoring after a bag-- and with another ogre sneering down at her. She seemed to have landed in his path after falling.<i>Poor thing...</i><br/><br/>"Watch where you're going, cur!" the foul beast spat-- at least, that's what Gray guess it said; ogre's mouths were huge and hard to read. But the brute was carrying some sort of club and he was already hoisting it up, as if to bring it down on the little beastie's head. Spittle flung from between his blocky looking teeth as he bellowed: "I'll crush you like a fucking insect!"<br/><br/>Gray hated ogres. They were loud, loud enough for him to hear them at times, and hot-headed. They were always looking for a reason to cause some kind of destruction. He wasn't in the mood to watch as this one took out whatever species-based defect out on the pitiful looking-- what was she, anyhow? All the same, he shoved the bottle into his pocket and vaulted over the bench to close the distance between himself and the near disaster ready to take place. Before the crude slab of wood could be brought down onto the smaller being's skull, Gray had put himself between her and the ogre, catching the club with a clawed hand and a fanged snarl.<br/><br/>The ogre roared at the opposition, but Gray snatched his weapon from his meaty grip and swung it into his exposed potbelly instead. The ogre fell with a thud that seemed to rattle the cobblestones. The wolf snapped the club over his knee and tossed it aside, satisfied with the quick work he had made with the monster, but turned to the girl with... goat legs? A satyr. That was something he hadn't seen in quite some time.<br/><br/>Gray extended his hand to her, black claws retracting to normal, light fingernails.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#808080">"You need to be more careful here..."</span>he said, eyes trained on her face.