(no subject)
Iella doesn't quite storm through the door from the lake and to the Bar. She has better control of herself than that -- though it's a near thing. Her back and shoulders are covered in snow, her scarf and hat askew. One side of her face sports an angry, bright red mark, and the other is already beginning to bruise, dark and ugly.
She wipes a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth with her thumb, and she has a quick word with Bar. Icepack now firmly pressed against the purpling bruise, she looks around, eyes sharp. She's angry, and she's on the hunt for Security.
She wipes a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth with her thumb, and she has a quick word with Bar. Icepack now firmly pressed against the purpling bruise, she looks around, eyes sharp. She's angry, and she's on the hunt for Security.