<strong>Grayson Park</strong><br/><br/>The man followed over with her, leaning down into the mud.  "You're right..." he said softly, her reassurances mixed with the mention of a hospital helping to calm him down.  "I'm just a little under the weather."  Her touch upon his body made him shift, as if he was made of only dirt himself, but as he caked the filth upon himself, he started to work it over into a sort of clay.  Soon he was completely caked in mud, but as his hands sculpted the dirt over his body, soon he seemed to be remaking himself.<br/><br/>After a few minutes, he looked up to her.  He looked more like a man with mud caked upon himself than any sane, rational human being, and a very faint glow came from his eyes as he looked at her.  "Good as new, right?  I'm sorry for panicking you.  I don't need a hospital, though; I'm completely fine."  He seemed almost to pity her as he looked upon her.  Whatever terrible plan he'd meant to give was now gone.