Curiosity had gotten the better of Hermesia now that the elves had left her immediate attention. Without the mental distraction of her need to serve, she could focus on the others a bit more. Her first focus of attention was Ithalin, the undead man was quick to head off on his own, and whatever instincts she had gained as a medical officer told her that something about him was distressed. Waiting a few moments so as not to seem TOO eager to please (he was no elf after all) she darted off after him.<br/><br/>Like a distant shadow she followed him to the gym, where he began his absolutely unruly assault on a punching bag. Hermesia likely didn't have strength in her entire body matching one of those punches. She wasn't exactly made of glass but she was pretty fragile in comparison to the hulking undead. She approached cautiously, not wanting to set him off on her right away.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00b3b3">"Excuse me"</span>she cleared her throat, there was little need for Teutari at the moment, so she used the more vulgar common tongue.<span style="color: #00b3b3">"I couldn't help but notice you seem to be in some kind of physical distress. Does it have to do with your condition? Can i be of assistance?"</span>The Reik wanted her to keep these lesser species standing and dammit she was going to do a thorough job about it.<br/><br/>At the sound of another voice, however, the Paracelsi almost jumped out of her skin. She had been so focused on Ithalin she hadn't noticed Heinrich's presence, and with practiced grace she pivoted to face him and bowed low, spreading her dress in a curtsy as she kept her head bent in utmost deference, hoping he would ignore the slight of not addressing him first.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>