She was still panting, staring at the spot the wolf had been. "ya....I'm fine....let's get out of here..." she said, but didn't move
The sensation of a chilly breeze rushed over the mages, almost rippling in tiny waves on their skin as their outfits reverted back to their original forms. The warmth of their powers returned, slowly at first, but eventually crescendoing until the pair felt as they did but a few minutes ago. Fading into nothingness before their eyes, the wolf's corpse vanished without a trace. Even the mess Margaret had splattered across the floor had fled before their eyes, as if it had never happened at all.
Jamie approached the woman slowly, cautiously resting his hand on her shoulder. His chest still rose and fell in a hurried pace, out of breath from sprinting away for his life. "You ok? That looked kind of... Rough."
The young man squeezed her shoulder gently, though he didn't make a move to head off just yet, unwilling to rush her. "Talk to me, Margaret... I'll listen." Concern covered his expression, genuine, a bit naive, but honest. Even in the dimmed lights, his eyes held a spark of purity that hadn't burned away in their trials against the Shadows. Even she had to wonder when, not if, that would fade.
The young man drew his hand back slowly, narrowing his eyes in suspicion as he tilted his head to the side slightly. His gaze settled on her expression, trying to read the truth from her words, "...Since when?" he asked, gently waving towards the stage, "Since we got to this room? This... House? Or before?"
She shook her head, then slowly started to get up. "I don't know...I've never had to kill something without my powers before...Jaime...the demon blood...its getting to me..." She hadn't told anyone but Ulle about her blood, and the fact she just said it was not a good sign
Jamie licked his lips, trying to put together something comforting to say in response, but found himself failing the attempt. It was clear that he could not understand her, no matter how kindly he seemed to try. "Well... Can you just... Ignore it? Can you try not being a demon?"
Sighing, he averted his gaze as her own rolled past him. He said nothing as they continued on, lagging behind somewhat in silence. The exit, a door just outside of view from the seats, hung peacefully in the backstage area, its hinges groaning in protest as they were woken from their rest once more. Passing through a long hall of dressing rooms, a few storage areas, and a handful of other common sights in a production house, the pair eventually found themselves at the base a steeply pitched, circular stairway. The carpet had given way to stone, combining with the dust, decay, and disuse to lend the place and eerie sense of foreboding. Jamie gave a quick look about as he started up the steps, but still kept his mouth shut.