"I don't remember giving you permission to be paler than me," Aya muttered silently to herself. She had stopped listening to what was being said a little while ago and was now staring critically at Inyrra, occasionally poking at her leather-clad form. It was a pretty nice form, she decided, and the tiefling was much more.. uh... "stacked", than her. That's what one gets as an elf, she decided.<br/><br/>After a moment more of inspection she turned to the newly arrived priestess, giving her a vacant, but genuine smile. This was some place -- first the mage teleported somewhere, Maren exploded, and then the druid left for seemingly no reason (before she even deciphered those tattoos!) and now there was a highly emotional priestess. The world was full of colorful characters all of a sudden.<br/><br/>"Oh, fuck, I'm wounded," the air-headed elf suddenly belched out, noticing the intense pain in her stomach, courtesy of demon claws. A short druidic phrase and some finger-waggling later, and Aya had her hand on her stomach, using a moderate spell of healing on herself... hopefully it would hold her over.<br/><br/>"Does anyone else need healing, by the way? Unless priest-y girl wants to lay some lovin' on us."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>