<span style="color: #0040FF">Delancey looked at the Servial, questions burning on his usually smiling mouth. "I have not meet those bastardiaid," here he spat on the ground, "In all my training under his Majesty Provoste of Orials, nor have I heard of the like." He paused, gaging their responses. He knew that he didn't exactly look like a king's guard, with his unruly ginger hair and dirtied leather jerkin. Seeing Seiria gaze at him with a question in her blood red eyes, the anger and distrust formed from fighting the demons faded, leaving behind a happy-to-help look afterwards.<br/><br/>"What do you need help with Seiria?" he asked her.</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">Smelling the freshly killed deer, Reed's mouth began to water uncontrollably. So, when she ended up drooling on the man holding her, it was all she could do to whisper an apology and continuously swallow. Right now she could care less if it was fully cooked or not, as long as she was able to have some she could last a few more days. And maybe smoke a few strips so it would be lighter and last longer than fresh meat. Twisting a bit to catch more of the conversation, she gasped in pain. She was still sore from the demon attack and, she thought dismally as she felt her tunic getting wet again, not all of her cuts had closed over yet. Reaching for the hunting knife on her waist, she tried to cut her tunic so that she could use it for bandaging. Growling in frustration at her weakness, she thrust the hilt into one of the Servial's hands.<br/><br/>"Can you cut up some of my tunic for bandages?" she asked harshly, then shoved away her anger to add politely, "please."</span>