<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v140/Lockepick/Character%20Pictures/8b5a6740-17a0-4466-b9ff-72090d36659c_zpsbadf0357.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>:<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Bresnahan</span>(http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=188184.msg9096189#msg9096189)<br/><strong>Location</strong>: On the Road<br/><strong>Time</strong>: --<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>: Black high collared sleeveless shirt, black pants, heavy belt, fingerless gloves. A lot of blood.<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Open<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Bresnahan wasn't so quick to write off that the undead had fled. He was still tensed for a couple of beats, spurred on by a mixture of healthy fear and an itch to actually accomplish something in the battle. A few heavy breaths in and out helped clarify how much time he was waiting, as well as helping him calm down. Color was beginning to return to his cheeks already, as the undead energy was no longer running through his veins. He had still lost a lot of blood, but the injuries from the battle became secondary under a sheepish shame that he hadn't left a very good impression for his allies.<br/><br/>He realized he was still low to the ground for quick movement, and straightened up to address the rest of the team. He ran his hands down his clothes, trying to slick off as much of the blood as he can. He flicked his hands to the side to clean his hands off; clearly having no issue with the gore. He cleared his throat and looked back to the rest of the team, scanning them quickly and finding that the same number were standing as before, "Is there anything we can infer from... whatever those were? Any insight as to what else we can expect based on how they usually act?"