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

Ophelia hadn't begun sprinting at the first gunshot--that could've been anything at all. Hearing random, errant gunshots on a Night of the Hunt was no more irregular than anything else... but the second was enough to make Ophelia begin to sprint as quickly as she could. The path they'd followed was obvious--not footprints, exactly, but markers of where they'd been and where Ophelia needed to go. She was [i]frighteningly[/i] quick now, quicker than she'd ever thought would be possible, but this pace was going to tire even her suddenly extraordinary stamina. It'd be okay--there'd be time to stop and rest before she joined... well, what she presumed was the confrontation, but she really didn't have any idea. She'd heard of this 'Skinner' before, though--hushed and horrified whispers, hearkened to by harrowed and haunted hanger-ons... tales of sadistic violence, of corpses missing entire swathes of their skin. Ophelia knew well the kind of determination and precision that such macabre butchery required from her time in Hemwick taking bodies apart... and she knew that to enjoy it on such a primal level was a sure sign of a [i]beast[/i]. Perhaps not by blood, or by disease, but by kinship--but spirit, and sympathy. 

She reckoned that beings like that, like the Pallid man and his little runt, like this "Soulkeeper" or "Corval" or "Skinner"... they all needed to die. The heat did not return to her as it did before, her blood cooled as it was by the glorious light of Mother Moon. She felt only a cold and cresting radiance, searing yet frigid, like all the coolness and pitilessness of night but the incandescence of day--and it spurred her to action not in that rash and violent way, but conniving and concentrated. She took the little bell, the Moonborn Bell, and withdrew it from her person right as she stepped onto the elevator. She noticed that it had already returned up for her--and could spot the smudges from footwear having recently padded across it. She rang it soulfully and pleadingly, measured and focused, and she whispered a little prayer under her breath:

"Come, Moonborn Hunter, and let us grace them all with Her radiance. I call you to Hunt, dear, for the night will be long."

After the Moonborn Hunter materialised, Ophelia operated the lift to send it down once again--ready to continue looking for Farren, Torquil and Victor.