[B]Rift Hound[/B]

Joshua followed the wounded girl as she was carted off, the words 'internal bleeding' mentioned in the flurry of movement that accompanied her departure. He suddenly found himself feeling very awkward at the entire situation and not knowing how to react, the wounded girl, previous mission and current situation having left him at a loss. The other girl seemed to be suggesting a trek, and Joshua's kleptomaniac mind was quick to pick up the slack.

"Well, uh... I guess she coul'n't really benefit from alco'ol thinning 'er blood much, ey? Maybe we shoul' 'it a bo'le-o? I mean, I 'aven't got much dosh on me righ' now, but I reckon I could 'it us up witha five-pordal discount if need be? 'ell, maybe Energy McShapshifter over 'ere could make it a party!" Joshua was babbling and he knew it. He had a bad habit of slipping back into Aussie when he was stressed, which was typically associated with talking at a million-miles-an-hour, making him completely legible to any Australia, but to American he may as well have been speaking Kilngon.
It was at that point a monk spoke up, "Or... ya know, drink Chartreuse and play Monopoly. Whadevah tickles ya pickle."