The smell of blood is rich and heavy and just a little rancid, and Red wishes for the hundredth or so time that she did not have the sharp senses of a wolf as she pushes towards the scene. A woman, tall (so tall? like really tall, wow) covered in blood, and something in Red smarts at the injustice of it, the cruelty and the rudeness. It reminds her of Violet and the girls in school and their pettiness, and things she hasn't thought of in a very long time.
"What is wrong with you? I think you should go," she tells the villagers, forceful and angry, staring them down until they back away. On the plus side, no fire, no pitchforks, no desire to kill you for being what you are? On the down side: still sucks, and none of those things can be said to the woman with blood on her face.
Finally Red turns to her, drawing a handkerchief out of the pouch on her belt. Her dress seems fitting enough for Ferelden, as does the red cloak that hangs from her shoulders, but she is no Thedosian, and she is glad of the red leather gloves on her hand that conceal the glowing green mark she found there earlier.
"Are you okay?" she asks, and it feels like a stupid question, as she holds out the cloth in offering. "We might need some more handkerchiefs, I think." The joke feels silly, and it is, but-- getting blood thrown on you has to suck. Trying to get someone to smile in bad circumstances if kind of her thing.
2
The smell of blood is rich and heavy and just a little rancid, and Red wishes for the hundredth or so time that she did not have the sharp senses of a wolf as she pushes towards the scene. A woman, tall (so tall? like really tall, wow) covered in blood, and something in Red smarts at the injustice of it, the cruelty and the rudeness. It reminds her of Violet and the girls in school and their pettiness, and things she hasn't thought of in a very long time.
"What is wrong with you? I think you should go," she tells the villagers, forceful and angry, staring them down until they back away. On the plus side, no fire, no pitchforks, no desire to kill you for being what you are? On the down side: still sucks, and none of those things can be said to the woman with blood on her face.
Finally Red turns to her, drawing a handkerchief out of the pouch on her belt. Her dress seems fitting enough for Ferelden, as does the red cloak that hangs from her shoulders, but she is no Thedosian, and she is glad of the red leather gloves on her hand that conceal the glowing green mark she found there earlier.
"Are you okay?" she asks, and it feels like a stupid question, as she holds out the cloth in offering. "We might need some more handkerchiefs, I think." The joke feels silly, and it is, but-- getting blood thrown on you has to suck. Trying to get someone to smile in bad circumstances if kind of her thing.