Having being left with her questions Raylyn looked at her sketch padâ€¦ Scooping it up she riffled through her bag grabbing up her jeans and sliding them on. The material clung so familiarly to her as she just decided to leave her black tank top on, her converse were a little difficult to slip on in such a hurry as she ran out the door. The girl pulled up short in the middle of the street, her dark oaky curls swaying free from her loose messy bun as the hairtie fell free. Emerald eyes scanned the streets briefly landing upon a smoking car with Sylvan, Raijin, and a new fellow. Seeing Raijin, even from a distance gave her a shiver, no, she couldnâ€™t be a reincarnate of anyone, she was Raylyn, a simple girl from a long chain of Gypsies, and Merchants from old Germanyâ€¦ She laughed sheepishly to herself as she knew that having some supernatural blood within her was not completely excluded. Raylyn started to get impatient until she saw Marcus walking down the way, his black cloaks billowing like molten shadow, the sight of him didnâ€™t bother him any more, nor did the sight of the other supernaturals around her.<br/><br/>â€œMarcus!â€ She felt her feet carrying her quickly to the man with the robes as her sketchbook was clutched to her chest. â€œMarcus, please, can I speak with youâ€¦Itâ€™s urgentâ€¦â€ Reaching the man she looked up into his eyes as her chest lightly heaved from the run, yet she wasnâ€™t exerted in the least. â€œCan we speak somewhere privateâ€¦If you have the time?â€