[He nods, standing and pressing his thumb against each of their brows, smearing the blood there, followed by his own. There's a spark of magic there- but it might be clear it's coming from Will himself, not any divine source. Trying to imbue his efforts so someone, something, will notice.]
There... and hate to say it, but no washing it off 'till dawn.
no subject
There... and hate to say it, but no washing it off 'till dawn.
[Yes, it's gross. His nose wrinkles]