Blood still seeped from Aimery's nose, but rather than flowing down his face it seemed to drip right through to the ground, as if the rest of him wasn't there. He wasn't concerned about letting the masked man see him do it- who was he going to tell? What would he say? 'Yes, I was out in my anatomically correct hero costume and brutalized several men with my bare fists, but the strange thing was some guy didn't bleed properly'?

"No it's... not too far," answered Aimery, knitting his brows and frowning slightly as he felt at his side, then winced hard. He'd have a bruise for a week or two, but it didn't feel as if anything was broken. He'd been lucky. "And thanks to your help, I'll be able to make it there fine."

He offered him a little smile to show he was appreciative, then pursed his lips and double checked, "Brock Marsh is that way, isn't it?"