Orren was not a happy man. Human medicine was fine and all, but it didn't work well when the patient's incisions kept trying to heal. The EMTs had a hell of a time keeping them open long enough to pull out the crystals, now about two inches long and still growing. Orren, in the meantime, made little effort to hide his howling and cursing all the while. Once the crystals were removed, his wound healed just fine. He grumpily got himself up and went to rejoin his comrades.

"Goddamn piece of shit. When I get my hands on him, I'm gonna take that knife of his and shove it down his throat." A bit of a graphic threat, but that was all it was. Surprisingly, Orren was actually rather squeamish. He pouted for a moment before he notice the lack of half hearted greeting and idiotic smile. Where was Dylan? And the lack of someone standing next him, staring as him as if he didn't notice, made him look around twice. Where the hell was Per? 

The blood hero walked towards the alley that a few others had gathered in. He looked down at the drag marks in the snow for a bit before he put two and two together. 
"Oh fuck. Ohshitohfuck! He got them didn't he!" Orren didn't need to specify who 'them' was. With his two best friends missing, he completely forgot about his own woes and began to focus on the bigger issue. 

========================================

Dylan watched as Per slowly began to take a graceful pirouette off the handle. She was losing her shit. If she didn't stop, she'd probably hurt herself. "Per, calm down," He tried to coax her, doing his best not to look scary. It obviously wasn't helping. She was practically clawing at the door like a trapped animal. "Per....stop, you're going to-" He paused to wince as she pounded the icy door. 

She was on the verge of a panic attack; she was doing herself no good. Dylan didn't like the idea of controlling her, but he felt as though her may have to. He could make a person feel fear, but he could just as easily take fear away. He slowly shifted so that he put his hands up in a surrendering pose, wincing as he did so. His broken ankle was throbbing. It was swollen to about twice its normal size, dark bruises already forming all around it. 
"Please...don't be afraid." He gently reached out to her with his powers, sapping away her panic and fear. It was for her own good, he convinced himself. 

She suddenly stopped her mindless attempts at escape and turned to face him, looking at him in a way that he'd never seen from her before. She wasn't afraid. Not of him, not of the ice, not of anything. He was so caught off guard by it, that it took him a while to answer her question. 
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. ...Well, no actually. I think my ankle's broke." There was no 'think' about whether it was or not; it was definitely broken.