It was as if the sky felt heavy remorse for the recent bloodshed. Dropplets gleaming like chrystals from a finely crafted chandellier. The wind was picking up, much to her dismay, as rain struck her form as hard as hail, as the echo of growling thunder caused the ground to reverberate. Her footing, once firm, now haphazard. Black boots finding the worst times to give way.

"Irene, were's your stele," Crayson asked, as his glance swung from the road ahead, to her.

"Why?" Her hand clasped the handle, and retreaved it from it's place in a pocket within the deep caverns of her shadowhunter cloak. Only a bit of hesitation made itself known, but didn't linger as it was passed from one to the other.

He twisted it skillfully, and placed the tip to the skin mere inches from his wrist. The black ink spidered outward as he regarded the movements with half lidded, lazy eyes. Only breifly did their gazes meet before the `Irateze` had been completed, and the stele had been removed. Clay already beginning to fell the pains in his lower back subside to a dull ache while the rest of his wounds followed suit.

"Had the downworlder injured your chest?"

He left a lingering look to his frontal muscles with a raise of his brow as if he had not yet paid mind to that area yet. "I....Don't think so, why?"

Her eyes returned to the gravel spreading outward ahead taking the messy form of a path worn by use with numerous imprints as proof. The first time in a while since it had been flooded with demons. "You were clutching your chest like something there was causing you irritation. And since you a prone to feel pain as just an annoyance instead of a feeling of physical hurt, I assumed..." She left it haning where it was, knowing he could inwardly fill in the blank.