He patched himself up with the quick efficiency of someone used to dealing with stab wounds. Before she was even done, he pulled his shirt back over the wound and had cleared away the blood, stowing the evidence of the cherry-red fluid in his cards. When he catches the kit, that goes in too.

"Grey skinned, pointy candycorn horns. Red glasses, red eyes." He points to his own eyeballs. "All red. Not just the iris - pupil and sclera too. Wears the libra sign on her shirt."

Glancing down the hall, he looked for any sign of movement from either. Seeing none, he huffed out a sigh. "Been dealing with this shit since Monday. You?"