Of course it spoke Gaelic, the universe's little joke on him couldn't end with it just looking like one of the unseelie, it spoke like one too. Sure, why not, not like today was going to get any weirder. Switching to his home tongue he addressed the rat man "Hard to punish a dead man, rat. As for her, feel free to punish her all you want, she's clan-less now." His voice clearly carried his contempt.

The thing was babbling now, threatening them with another fairy story. Shame for him that particular one didn't scare the Scot. To him, Jenny was a coward, only taking children, or those too old to fight back. Not one to be afraid of. It also kept him occupied long enough for the officer to slap cuffs on the little prankster effectively curtailing most of his ability to annoy the people around him.Although, would they hold? Whatever this guys power was, he could make electricity. It was worryingly possible he could just magnetise the cuffs locking mechanism in them and slip them off.

With the officer talking, his brain flicked the language switch in his mind, going back to English. "Aye, can do. Keep an eye out though, on the off chance he's not bluffing about his lass, she got a certain type," he added quietly, motioning towards the kid still bouncing up and down with excitement.

Pulling his shield in close and wandering back over to the bored clown, he went about trying to get a pair of rubber gloves. The guy might not be his biggest fan right now, disrupting his business and all, but he wasn't about to stand in a police officers way.

Gloves acquired he went back across to the officer and handed them over, the pit in his stomach still refusing to move. "Here lass, hopefully they do the trick." At least he was dealt with right now, if his mythical lady friend made an appearance, Artair would happily deal with her if need be. "You need me for anything else, or can I finally finish my walk?"

Gaelic. It definitely sounded Gaelic. And though she couldn't understand a word of what was being said, Amelia had a sinking suspicion someone had slighted her...

The scots comment and gesture towards the child made Amelia nod. On another day, she might have mused on the myths, and how they'd started, or on myths in modern culture... but she was working. No time for that.

This little rat was going to give her so much paperwork, it really was obnoxious. And what was he talking about, with his girlfriend and making them sorry. Had he really been trying to make the scot fly?

Amelia watched the rat carefully, but kept an eye on her surroundings. His comment had left her feeling exposed.

The scot returned, gloves in hand. "Thank you," Amelia said. She quickly busied herself with sliding the gloves onto her own hands.

She could have gone either way with the gloves. On his hands, he may have been rendered unable to use his powers, so long as they were confined to his fingers. But if he shed sparks from his body, she wouldn't be able to hold him easily. With the gloves, she could hold him nearby, or at range. She could keep him under control, and have insulation against his shocks. Amelia had opted for the latter rather than the former.

The officer grasped the little man by the shoulders and hauled him to his feet. He never stopped making noise.

"You're free to go," Amelia said. Of course, someone had other plans.

---

The rat man had kept up the salvo of insults to the scot. Clanless or not, it mattered less to him than a gnat. His target had always been the scot. He'd responded to the man's comment with a scathing sneer. What was Gaelic for 'up yours'? The rat man made a hasty approximation, then went back to calling for his honey.

---

Jenny had been napping. No, she had been watching her boy toy from above. No, she had been hovering and napping and watching her boy toy from above. Actually, she'd been ignoring him. She had only wanted him to think she had been doing any of the aforementioned things. Really, she'd been a block away and paying him zero attention. Except, of course, for their psychic connection that hummed in the back of her brain like a tuning fork.

Jenny sat on a bus bench, daydreaming. Though her teeth were a nasty seaweed green, and her hair the deepest of royal blues, she was not a faerie. The name, she'd picked because it fit her appearance and referenced a being of mythology. It inspired... something. Fear, sometimes, reverence, disgust. It was better than her boyfriend's nickname. His was incredibly uncreative, stupid, boring... and dumb. She didn't even deign to acknowledge it. Think of the stupidest nickname or reference imaginable. You were close.

Idly, she examined her nails. Maybe she'd go to Pinkberry after her bus came. Briefly, she considered all the good things she could get. A psychic scream tore her from her reverie. It was the echo of the very physical scream her boyfriend had managed. When he called her name, she heard it wherever she was. It was part of her power. The lame part. She didn't have any mind reading or foretelling or thought pushing. Her psychic powers simply let her know when people said her name... and also let her lift up to 500 lbs with a thought. So lame.

Sighing, Jenny rose and floated on a thought down the street at the speed of a city bus. She could fly, yeah, but city busses involved less thinking. Gag.

All in all, it took Jenny about a minute from hearing her name to arriving on the scene. She arrived ten seconds after the police officer told a redhead scotsman he could go.

"Him!!!" Boy toy called out. Jenny rolled her eyes, rolled up her sleeves, and thrust her arms out towards the Scotsman. Toy shouted "Make him fly!!"

"I'm going to make you fly," Jenny sighed. Boredom hung around her like a miasma. And then, she made good on her threat.

He was going home. Today had been far too weird to consider trying to salvage it and he was fairly sure a drink would only do more harm than good. Nodding to the officer and leaving with a simple "Cheers," he start off, Gaelic insults and weird crooning following him from the weird little man. He was not in the mood to deal with any more myths right now. Scattering the shield as he walked, he was glad nothing else could surprise him.

His luck, being what it was, meant of course he was going to get messed with by something else. Between one step and the next he started to feel like something was weird. Why did the ground not feel, groundy? Looking down and seeing the ground recede away from him, his anger finally burst.

"Officer! We've got a wee bit of a f------ problem over here!" Try as he might, he could hold back the red tide any more. Whoever these things were, whatever they could do, it was time to fight back.

Glancing around, he finally clocked the figure he was rising up towards. Well, if she was Jenny she fit the part, dark blue hair and a nasty off green grin. Before he could stop himself, he was swearing at her in Gaelic, using every single insult he had ever heard. There was no stopping the torrent of abuse he directed at the person in front of him.

He could feel his mind trying to pull out a weapon, as if it knew he wanted to hurt this person. Light started to shimmer near his hand, trying to form into, something.

---

God even making the man fly was boring, he didn't scream or wet himself. Barely reacted in an interesting way at all. He even called for help, couldn't he do something funny? Maybe he would freak out if he saw her, start cowering like others did. That might be fun. Probably not, she thought sighing.

Urgh, he even spoke like her toy, screaming at her in a language she  didn't care enough to learn, even if her 'boyfriend' insisted on trying to teacher her. Why should she care about some dying tongue over say, anything useful ever. Picking at her teeth and idly wondering when she'd need to re-dye them, she was getting mildly impressed by the sheer length of time the red head was able to keep shouting. It was mildly endearing in a pathetic way.

Wait, what was that in his hand? Was he a mutant. Well, this might be interesting, a little. "You done shouting like the madman you appear to be?" That cut him short. Oh she liked the look of hatred he had, there was more beneath the surface. This Scotsman might be fun to play with. "I'd love to see what present you've got there," she said motioning towards his hand, "Just remember how high up you are right now. I wouldn't want to lose concentration and let you slip."

It appeared that they had a problem. That problem was a scotsman several feet in the air.

Now, her first instinct had been to subdue the person causing said problem, but that would have resolved with a falling man. She couldn't split her focus to use her powers on the woman and also support a falling man at the same time. If she doubled down on the act of catching him, however, she could probably support him long enough to prevent his fall from being too painful. It'd be the equivalent of him falling on top of her. That was also an option. But she preferred the one that had zero bruised limbs on her part.

If he knocked her out with his power, she could "catch him", slowing his fall briefly so he tumbled into a flat invisible construct that tried to support him all the way to the ground. Amelia could lift about her own strength limits. She could support a man... for a few seconds. It wasn't optimal, but it was an escape route. So, she took it.

"Hit her now! I'll catch you!" Amelia shouted. She turned, and shot a blue fist flying at the woman's face as a distraction. It blew through the woman's skull and out the back in an instant, doing absolutely nothing other than surprise, then vanished as Amelia slammed her focus into creating a loose white barrier about the size of her upper half beneath the Scotsman's back. She used both her hands to direct the flows, brows furrowing. It wouldn't be soft as a feather bed, but it would be better than falling the entire distance. She would do her best to support him and control the tumble once he fell.

Here was hoping the flying Scotsman knocked the blue-haired lady out in one punch.

Whoever this b---- was, he was going to make her pay. He was at the end of his very short temper after today's events, now he just wanted to hurt something, preferably something actually involved in his suffering. If the officer hadn't shouted at him and pulled him out from outright blood lust, he'd have missed the plan. As long as she was sure she could catch him, he'd have to trust her. Didn't really have many options anyway, it was go time. The blue fist flying past him was just the distraction he needed.

Pulling out a caestus and pouring a large amount of energy into it, he slammed it straight across her jaw. Not his best hit but considering the fact he didn't have any solid footing, he was rather happy with the results. The green toothed woman spun drunkenly away from him and he would have been so close to celebrating, if his stomach didn't suddenly lurch as gravity reasserted itself and he started to fall. This was going to hurt.

OK, the feeling was weird. He was still falling, faster than he really liked, but it wasn't at a broken bones speed, more like a few nasty bruises kind of velocity. Either way it wasn't a long fall, between one blink and the next the ground was slamming into his back and knocking the wind out of his lungs.

That, that had hurt. A lot. It was like someone had beaten him a big stick all over his body. Felt so damn good though, since pain at least meant he wasn't dead, yet anyway. Groaning while he pulled himself up and checked himself over for any breaks, the officer had actually done it. Christ that had been amazing. "Nice catch lass, nowt broken and only a load of bruises to show for it." Glancing up, he wasn't sure if the woman had been knocked out, her body still spinning idly in the air.

---

How dare he! How dare the filthy Scot hurt his dear beautiful Jenny. He would pay, he would burn when the rat got out of these cuffs and away from the carnage. Oh he had such plans for the redhead, he would hunt the man, squirrel out his secrets and play such fun tricks with them.

'Can you hear me lovely, did the bad man rattled your beautiful mind?' he cast out towards her, still confident the bond between them was strong. Sending along his plan, hoping she would get away, he started to work his magic, working the cuffs loose while slowly moving away from the scene, glad for his smaller size for once. It was easy to be noticed when you weren't at eye level. 

Lordy, but that had been a strain. Her power wasn't really meant for supporting an entire person, even though she might have been able to. Had she repeated that thought several times now? If so, it was simply a nature of the beast. When one is struggling, they latch onto anything they can...

He catch had put a surge of physical feedback through her. She could feel, through the bond of clothing she affected, so Amelia had felt the collision, felt his back and his lower backside, and she had wished he'd been wearing a ski mask, so she would have been able to support his head. It was good there was no whiplash there. She would direct him to the nearest healer she knew. Or at least, a hospital or chiropractor. Once this was done.

Amelia smiled weakly at his comment, only slightly winded. Her voice was thready. "Good," she said. "Thanks for the assist. Let's resolve this situation quickly, so I can arrest her and you can get on with your day." Translation: let's handle this b---- together. I want to put her in a dark cell for a while and let her think about her mistakes. We'll celebrate with coffee and donuts. Separately, of course. If you don't like donuts, pick your own poison. Whisky was Irish. What did scots like, Scotch? Haggis and tripe were-- okay. People were still doing things. Psychic backlash needed to take the back seat with these distracted idle thoughts. It wasn't clear how any of that could be translated into anything, on second blush. But rat man was doing things, and clearly that was more important than knowing the difference between Irish and Scottish spirits.

The thing he was doing, of course, was sneaking away to regroup. A nasty thing. The woman, his Jenny, was rattled. Her hover, she maintained, even after that raging blow to the head. Amelia had only noticed because she'd been so thoroughly distracted by the pain from maintaining the buffer between concrete and Scottish arse. She had been looking down, and shaking her head to clear it. Her eyes had settled on him. Absconding. He had frozen for a second, as if she were a T-rex and his stillness would help him evade detection. It did not.



Jenny landed on the ground with a curse. Her cheeks jiggled as she shook her head clear. "Bastard." She muttered. She'd blacked out for a moment there, but now... now she was less bored, more mad. It was kind of refreshing really. "Lets see how you like--"

The rubber gloves filled with blue hand constructs nicely. The man was small, light enough to carry. Would it be police brutality if she picked him up and threw him at the woman? Drawing her sidearm would be far more intelligible, but far less satisfying. Amelia settled for picking sparky up in the air with rubber gloves controlled from a distance. "You're under arrest," she told him, rattling off the Miranda rights. He could be detained. If she'd already read them to him, whatever.

Jenny was not pleased. Neither was the leprechaun.

Amelia smiled at the woman as she held her man. "Now are you going to give yourself up?" She asked blithely. Or would she add resisting arrest to the charges puked against her?

Well, when all this was over, and if he ever saw Miss Mellitus again, he owed the lass a drink. It had not looked easy to catch him, if her strained voice was any indication. Artair owed her right now, least he could do was stick around and help.

Nodding at the the officer, he got the picture. This woman was trouble, scary strong actually if she could lift both of them at once and fling them about like rag dolls. Working together was the only way to deal with this. He just hoped he could fake the woman out enough for his emergency partner to bring her down. If only he could get in range, she'd be easy enough to tag with a hit, but without a distraction, that wasn't going to happen. Jenny would just send him flying.

So of course, the distraction came flying into view but his, hands? OK, this cops power was weird, not that he'd argue with he effective it was, the rat man neatly in her custody and Jenny giving them evil looks from across.

Slamming power into a mental construct and pulling it out, he stood with the one he hated making the most. It was just so unwieldy and pointless, making a crossbow stronger than most. His major problem, it could only shoot thirty feet. So yeah, bit useless without real bolts and surprise surprise, that wasn't something a person tended to carry around in the 21st century. Hopefully his acting was up to snuff.

"Well lass, looks like the jigs up. Your wee friends all trussed up and ready for a lovely little cell, wouldn't you prefer to come peacefully." Gesturing with the crossbow he had trained on her, "much less blood that way ey." So, true, his acting wasn't great, but he had one hell of a poker face and it probably looked pretty ruthless from the outside. At least, that's what he was going for. Honestly it might just look angry, it was his default after all. "No funny then and if you even try to lift someone up, just remember this could go through a man in armour and his horse." Mostly.

---

The red haired man had the audacity to threaten her. Her of all people. She might not like the name her rat had convinced her to use, but at least she lived up to it. She was Jenny Greenteeth! A man like him, all superstitious and from whatever backwater spoken the rats tongue should be running screaming after seeing her! His look was very fetching now though. Maybe she could get a new pet, all she had to do was break this on.

Yes, thats what she'd do. Once the girl was dealt with and the rat, disposed of, she'd have her fun. "Oh my dear, this is going to be fun."

---

His dear was angry, oh how fun! Now if only he could get out of these horrible gloves, they could easily deal with the two meddlers and leave all happy and content! 

The jig, most certainly, was up. Good usage of terms, Scotty. Amelia's chin bobbed slightly in agreement with the summation. Also, the crossbow. Now, she was familiar with bow and arrow from training with Gawain, as well as from being a big fantasy nerd, so she knew crossbows usually had bolts. This one lacked a bolt. That was good. If it had HAD one, maybe she would have had to talk to the Scot about having a deadly weapon. Even though mutations that make deadly weapons are a complicated matter. They really needed to come up with some sort of organization that sorted things out. Protected rights. Protected people. But now was not the time to hash that out.

If need be, she could MAKE a crossbow bolt for the man's crossbow. It seemed that Greenteeth wasn't concerned with it, regardless. In fact, she seemed to hardly be concerned with anything. Except how much fun something was going to be. That was not coming quietly.

Officer Mellitus had free hands. Her constructs held the man, so she had plenty of room and opportunity to draw her sidearm. Now that the woman had decided she would not come quietly, and now that she had proven dangerous to someone in the area, Amelia had every reason to exercise her authority as a police officer. That, she did.

Amelia drew her sidearm from its holster, and aimed it at Jenny Greenteeth. Telekinesis meant just because the woman didn't have a visible weapon, she was still considered armed. "Stand down." Amelia stated tersely. "Get on the ground and place your hands behind your head."

He might not like guns, he might not like the police for that matter, but right now he was glad to have one hold the other there right now. When your opponent can send you flying with an errant though, bullets were a useful tool. Hopefully. Oh god she couldn't catch them out of the air could she, worse could she catch them and throw them back? Why can't things ever be simple in the bleeding city. "Come on lass, all you've done at this point is assault one irate Scotsman. Leave it at that and you'll be back on the streets in no time, scaring children and playing with.....rats." Ignore the fact she could possibly be done for attempted murder what with dropping him out the sky and all that.

Pulling a bolt out of the air and twirling it in his fingers, he didn't load it, yet. Didn't need to actually he could just summon one in the crossbow if need be but she still wasn't close enough to tag with it. Only a minor problem in his book. The bigger one at the moment was if she chose to actually back down or if he would need to dodge a flying balloon stand in the near future.

Always the optimism, he offered one last chance, "Look, Jenny, clearly the fear deargs not worth it and I'm sure you'd rather be spending time free as a bird than locked up in a cage. Let the officer do her job, and you'll be free and clear." It wasn't strictly speaking lies, but he had no idea if any of it was true. He was only concerned she'd lose it and cause to much collateral damage.

---

NO! No, no, no, no, no! She wouldn't abandon him, her little rat. She was stronger than any of these people and twice as cruel! There was no way she was going to give into honeyed words in a soft voice!

---

Oh it was tempting, to give in a let the girl take her, let the system figure out just who she was, but then it would be sooooo dull afterwords. All of the crimes, all of the fun she'd had, well they would just want to keep her locked away for it. No, she would just have to show them a lesson, again. No one took Greenteeth for granted and no one put her in a cage.

There! That would do nicely. A bin behind the two of them pulled it's way out of the ground, barely making a sound as she mentally lifted it, poised to knock the silly little girl with her weapon down. This, was going to be fun!

Frustration is seeing a bad situation get worse with each passing moment, regardless of your efforts to change it. Seeing a person resist every offer to deescalate. Seeing them smile, and risk her life. Amelia would shoot, if pressed. And then, she'd deal with the consequences. Therapy. Paperwork. Discussions. Probation, probably. She hadn't ever shot someone in the line of duty. It wasn't clear what would happen to her, from this side of the equation. She'd only heard what happened, on other peoples sides. Deep down, she still hoped they could resolve this without gunfire.

Jenny chose to throw a bin at her head. She had chosen poorly.

Amelia crumpled like a rag doll. SON OF A-- She slid across the pavement. It had hit her from behind. Hadn't knocked her unconscious, but it had hurt. It took all she had not to let the sidearm go spinning away as she fell. That was the last thing anyone wanted. And since it had taken all she had, not to lose her weapon, she hadn't kept her focus on filling a pair of rubber gloves. They flopped to the ground, limp and listless.

As Amelia worked to take stock of things, and deal with her injury, things happened loudly in the background.

He'd been expecting jenny to do something, maybe flick him backwards or just pull the gun out of the officers hands. Artair didn't see what she did do coming, but then who the hell expects projectile bins? Between one second and the next the officer was down, possibly hurt, possibly unconcious and he was standing there with a crazy mutant who could lift him up like a child. Fantastic.

Launching himself forward to bring her into range, he ducked under a flying bench and took a wild shot. Which missed, because it was a terrible shot. OK, he really, really needed to practice with this more, crossbows were not his forte. Pulling another bolt out and straight into the weapon, he was getting close now. Which was worrying actually, unless she was a complete idiot she was planning something. Something he probably didn't want to be a part of. This Jenny girl had more than a few screws lose and she was giving him very weird looks, the kind a predator has, the kind that chilled a grown man to the bone. What, he wasn't to proud to admit he was afraid.

Good thing too, the fear was keeping him alive, giving him that little boost of adrenaline he needed to dodge her attacks. Why wasn't she just picking him up again? Was she concerned he'd do more than punch her this time? Whatever she had up her sleeve, she was doing a damn good job keeping him moving, not letting him regroup with the lass on the ground.

Wait, where was the rat? He'd been just there!

Oh no. The hit had knocked the girls focus and the makeshift glove prison had dropped. Oh this was bad, the rat was the most dangerous one to him. One good shock and his heart would happily try to kill him. A heart attack right now wouldn't just be bad, chances are it'd kill him.

---

His dear, dear Jenny was fighting for him, his love was true! And he was free, oh today was getting better and better. Slipping out of the gloves and finding a sutable place to hide from the rain of debris she was playing with, what could he do now? How could he get them away. The Scot was the issue, he was the one who'd hurt his beloved. He had a shock coming, literally!

Giggling at his joke, he moved quickly and quietly, sneaking up on the red haired man, his skin crackling with the building charge. Time to show the Gael what a 'rat man' could really do!

The world tilted disconcertingly as Amelia worked to stabilize her vision. Her eyes drifted to the telepath. Then they swung to the Scot, and settled on the little man trying hard to be sneaky.

Whuh... it took her a moment to set her mind on what he was doing. And then, sluggishly, she reacted.

Her thoughts quested for a form, and it solidified around the little man, not hands this time, no. Transparent, nearly invisible blob. She didn't have the focus right now for flash. Settled for lack of substance, something that would appear like the waves of heat coming off a sidewalk on a hot summer day. Then, they caught the man up in two blob-like flows... and she lobbed him underhand into the telekinetic woman, just a moment before the little man would have electrocuted the Scot.

Argh. She had a throbbing headache. High voltage crackled and blurred her vision as the duo collided.

It was not lethal. But it took the two of them out.

"Behind you," she said to the Scot a second later. Delayed warning. Obviously, head trauma had rung her bell.

One minute he'd been dodging and blocking projectiles, the next a flying bundle of fur slammed into the crazy b---- shocking him and quite literally shocking her. Well, that's certainly one way to deal with them both, a certain twisted bit of humour in the two of them ending the fight like that.

"No s---, that was impressive lass but maybe you should sit down. That was a nasty hit and you could have a concussion." Trust doctor mode to kick in as soon as the danger was gone. He was already assessing any damage he and the officer had taken and while he'd gotten away with some cuts and bruises, she needed to get looked at right away.

Calling an ambulance and mentioned an injured officer, he was pretty sure the police would also be on their way to help contain the situation and arrest the two freaks that had decided this was a fun idea for an afternoon. Now was probably the best time to make himself scarce, he wasn't a fan of dealing with police at the best of times and frankly he didn't need his name known to them, nor his power. Looking the officer over, the damn humanitarian in him was not going to let him just walk away though was it?

Damnit, why did she have to be a decent person?

"Your pals are on the way, but once we've got those two cuffed you're taking a seat and getting some water in you, deal?" His voice went into that no nonsense mode a doctors did in emergencies. Few people actively argued agaisnt it.

A concussion? "Probably." She said glibly. It was entirely likely. But she had a job to do. Sitting down and getting her head looked at could come later. For now--

Amelia flomped foward, and started working on getting to her feet. While she was attempting this brave endeavor, the Scotsman kindly called someone. She noticed that in her periphery, which was gradually getting less fuzzy. Clearer.

>>"Your pals are on the way, but once we've got those two cuffed you're taking a seat and getting some water in you, deal?"

He literally came over and told her what he'd done, after he'd done it. She really should have radioed for backup. Or called someone else. Rats.

Amelia smiled sweetly at the Scot, with his endearing Doctor tone. "No time for common sense," she said goofily. "Justice never rests!"

Amelia staggered over to the two unconscious criminals, and started cuffing them to each other. There. If one tried escaping, they'd inconvenience the other, and if the electric mutant tried shocking anyone, they'd shock the telekinetic woman, too. She used zip ties to make sure their arms were also firmly secured behind their backs. It only took about twice as long as it usually would have. Once she was done, she glanced back at the Scot.

"Thank you for the assist. I'm going to want to take your statement. After that, I can get checked out by a doctor, and drink some water or whatever. Do you want to press charges?" She asked. Amelia figured he'd better. They were already in trouble for assault of an officer. Things could only get worse for them. And they really deserved it. Creepy rat man. Annoying psychic hag. Someone ought to buy her a toothbrush.

Ugh, her head hurt.

What was it people said about common sense not being common anymore, because she was like a walking example of it. Or stumbling example since she had trouble walking easily as she cuffed the two freaks together. OK, fair play to the officer, that was clever. If only to remove the little rats power from any future fights, Jenny could still be an issue, but she was a one woman issue now. No more creeping boyfriends to worry about.

Still, she wasn't in the best way. Pushing herself wasn't the best idea ever, not after a fight like that and a clear head injury. Too bad she was as stubborn as he was. "Fine lass, have it your way. But when the ambulance gets here I'm telling them the exact details of your bonk on the head. They'll not take no for an answer." Good little thing about doctors and EMT's, they could override the police when it came to patient care, Christ they could override generals and politicians if need be to care for someone.

For now, letting her ask the questions, keep her mind active was the best he could hope for. If it got worse, then he'd put his foot down.

"And aye, I think I would like to press charges. Putting them away for while seems a good idea." Attacking him was bad enough. That made him angry. But a kid had nearly got caught in the crossfire. No way they should get away without the maximum sentence they could. Despite his reservations about police, keeping people like that away from the public was a very good idea.

Answering any questions she had and keeping an eye on her condition, when the cavalry arrived and he could hand her off he was more than a little drained. A fight like that took a toll, even without any serious injuries. For now he just wanted to go home, collapse on a sofa and sleep for 10-12 hours.