Ptolema swayed her head backward to avoid Karodin, bowing for forgiveness. The Legionnaire's speed surprised her a little bit. Wasn't this person a Bronze-Rank?
"I hadn't meant to take advantage of you, Miss Ptolema." Karodin apologized, "--grabbing you like that, I mean."
Was he referring to when he helped her sit up? Ugh. It wasn't like he did anything creepy or touched anyplace questionable. This man had a shite sense of propriety.
"Tch. It's fine," Ptolema grumbled.
"The fourth and final seal, Mister Karodin," The green-haired Tactician prompted. "Will you be accompanying us?"
"Yeah! I'm coming!"
Without as much as a goodbye, the two sprinted off, the tall mage going along with them.
Ptolema's arm felt hot, the fracture steadily repairing due to the potion. It was how she knew it was working... that, and how hungry she felt. Standing up, she waved her good arm to greet the approaching Acolyte Diantha.
