"I'm sure Annabelle has some medical supplies in her pockets, knowing her. She thinks I'm going to end up killing her one of these days." Morte laughed and shook his head.
"You almost did." She frowned slightly, despite the fact she was over her initial bad mood at the juggler.
Choosing not to answer Morte turned to Seth. "We can always use a few more acts. We're rather small as it is. Nevertheless, once you've spoken to the rest of your troupe, fell free to join us."
After a moment of rummaging in her pockets, Annabelle placed several plasters, a length of bandage, and some anti-septic cream in the woman's hands. She just shrugged indicating it was normal for her to keep half a first aid kit in her pockets.
"Paranoid." He muttered, humour on his voice. He clearly found Annabelle amusing.
"Pfft. Apparently not" She said, jerking her head toward Cirilo. "It might have helped if you'd been a little more careful the first time you'd preformed that trick." Clearly that was a below-the-belt hit, whatever had happened when Morte had first attempted the juggling sword act had not gone well, judging by the way his jovial face took on a sour expression and the sudden air of tenseness around him.
Though as soon as this change in expression was there, it was gone, replaced by a slightly unconvincing smile. Whatever was troubling him he clearly wanted to forget it. Annabelle shot him an apologetic glance and he gave her a half-hearted smile.
(Sorry. DDD: Super, super fail. D:)