[center][h2][b]Ophelia[/b][/h2][/center]

It took Ophelia by surprise when both the first [b]thud[/b] against the door happened and the bestial noise that preceded it, and her mind scrambled to work out what could possibly have created such a sound... but she knew, deep down, that it was a beast. That which she was supposed to hunt--there was no mistaking it, especially not as a Yharnamite. The voice that [i]had[/i] spoken to them was... reasonable, she wanted to say, but that wasn't quite the right word. It seemed like they would be best served by avoiding combat, for now--at least until they could assess their opponents, and work out what precisely it was they'd need to do to secure their victory should things come to blows. Ophelia knew that the eyes had it, of course: they always did. Once she'd gotten a look into their eyes she'd know what to do, she was certain of it. 

Another thud, and the door's protestations increased in volume--seemingly in tandem with the exhortations of the beast seeking to shatter it. She turned around, looking over at Torquil with a somewhat urgent but not [i]worried[/i] expression--and even from this distance away, she could see just enough of his dull and mud-brown eyes to know that he was in a similar situation to her: waging an internal war against the fire and the frenzy that roiled within, ready to pounce and rip and tear. She locked eyes with him and pointed to the chalkboard next to him, then made a sideways rubbing motion with her free hand as she pointed the spear towards one of the cleaning implements. 

"Rub it out, dear?" she mouthed, making sure she was slower and more exaggerated in the movements of her mouth to help Torquil understand. Tell No One--that was what it said... and these roustabouts had malign intentions towards the church. This secret of theirs, it was one of two things that united them--that and their newfound status as Hunters. They would do well to keep it from the prying eyes of blood-drunk Yharnamites, especially those with misgivings about their... employers? Handlers? She was not certain what to call the members of the Healing Church, nor what her relationship with them was really supposed to be--but that mattered increasingly little as she heard the wood finally splinter and wheeled around to look. She took a step back to give herself plenty of space, and held the spear like a staff or walking stick as she expectantly awaited the barrier between them to finally vanish. She looked upon the claws of the revealed beast with equal parts vindication and curiosity, eager to understand what was happening here. The feelings of bloodlust had not diminished in the slightest, but were instead shelved: coiled like a snake in waiting, ready to pounce at the first sign of danger.