Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore" // Joining

[Olivier Monat]

Though he was quite beyond formalities at this point, as old as his spirit was, Olivier couldn't help but grumble gently at her casual words. "A shame," his deep voice rumbled, a tinge of an accent with it, "Though, perhaps it's not. You hardly seem like the responsible type." He shrugged, black cloak rippling with the movement.

And as the lumbering beast approached, he winced at the breathing, the appearance. Clearly sick -- did they have no medics? Olivier snorted. "You should excuse your appearance. Does your group have no doctors?" He inquired, taking in Olalla's form. "You look horrid."

The nickname again. With a breathy curse, he shook his head. "Olivier Monat. Self-taught doctor." and someone this group desperately needed, if their ardent looked like that.