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

Ophelia took the proffered bag back, smiling widely upon first feeling its renewed heft in her hands. She moved to return it to whence she'd gotten it from, and with that done she tilted her head to the side for a half-second before speaking.

"Thank you, dear--though... I must admit, I was only really thinking of my social obligations when I mentioned the blood vials. It occurs to me that... I don't really know very much about being a Hunter. Is there anything else that you think we should have, as a group? I... I don't wish for us to be caught unawares on a night of the hunt. Ah--and might you have a map of Yharnam that I could use? In the Hunter's Dream, you see, there are a number of locations that we can travel to--that's how I was able to make it here to the workshop so quickly. I've lived in Yharnam all my life, but... mostly Hemwick, so there are plenty of places that I find myself completely unaware of. Having a map to draw out where precisely we can go... that sounds very useful indeed; I'd be happy to provide you with a copy too, my dear. I'd be delighted to offer you my assistance, and knowing the breadth of our ability to travel would be helpful in making sure we can go where we are most needed, mm?" Ophelia asked, the worry persistently still upon her features joined by the faintest of reddish tinges in her cheeks as she remembered that she had obligations beyond just politeness. 

"Truth be told, love... I'd briefly forgotten that I'm a Hunter now. Some direction from the First Hunter is, I hope, not too much to ask." she added hastily, looking into Dietrich's eyes as she spoke. There was no doubt in her mind, given the perceptiveness and shrewdness he'd displayed already, that it was quite obvious she found herself rather enamoured with him. The ministration and her newly acquired vigour conspired together to awaken things in her that the Paleblood had simply never permitted her to feel before--and she felt an odd moment of kinship suddenly with those Hunters who'd sheepishly fled from Dietrich and her earlier. She realised at that moment that she very much did not like being here, at the White Church's workshop... something about this entire place was frightfully queer, and not in the usual ways that were familiar to her. She was not used to not knowing, and she was beginning to realise just how vast the depths of her dislike for that state of being were.