Sorcha has no idea the unfortunate situation going on in the building nearby to where she has set up shop. The violence that the room reeked of or the untimely death of one of the immortals. In fact she could safely say that thus far she had never met a vampire, and her mother had told her more often than not that it was a good thing to stay out of the way of them. Were-creatures too, but hey Sorcha liked animals. It was no wonder she was drawn to the animal people. As much as she really wanted her own cat, her studio land lord absolutely forbid pets of any kind. Too much destruction, he had said in contempt. In Sorcha's opinion the people who showed that much hatred towards animals had obviously never had one and she feels a twinge of regret, missing her family cat Stacey with her multi-colored body and sweet temperament. Animals were much happier and forgiving than any human she had met so far.

In the time it takes for the woman to leave a few more people have stopped by her little stand, curiosity in their eyes even when they look down upon her with their haughty gazes. As much as they wanted to hate her non-designer clothes they were also fascinated by the things she was selling; everyone had problems, it was up to her to isolate them and create a potion to help it. Curing, no, but helping yes. Curing would defeat the whole purpose of her selling, she thinks, and besides many of her potions were legitimately made using 100% herbs, roots, and plants without any witchcraft involved. They were just old old recipes that many people had let fall to the history books in favor of over-the-counter pills.

As another customer leaves and she stuffs more bills into her pocket, practically beaming with pleasure, she feels a draft on the back of her neck and the gasps of people. Sorcha turns around now in a swift manner, blinking at the sight of the rather gorgeous man standing behind her with his shockingly white-blond hair. How had she not seen him? Still, Sorcha wasn't given to worry about such things as HOW since he was clearly looking at her and that meant she could sell him whatever - not that it seemed he needed many of her potions but she would figure him out.

A saucy grin flashes across her face and she is on the verge of telling him some witty comment about how he didn't NEED to cure hot flashes since he practically was one (I mean, have you seen the guy!?) before his next words stop her completely. Her smile falters and she glances down in confusion, or at least she masks her sudden fear in confusion even while mossy eyes glance at the sidewalk and skim down him beneath her eyelashes to peruse for weapons. In a totally discreet manner, you see. Then they lift back up to him and she chews on her bottom lip with brows furrowed. "Excuse me? As in like Salem witch trial stuff?"

This act would have to be award winning, she thinks, because if he is what she thinks he is, she has to thoroughly convince him of her innocence. Shit, how hadn't she known the Hunters stalked this division of the city? Her source was NOT getting a bonus. She laughs suddenly at her words, crossing her own arms and mimicking his posture as if she has nothing to hide, as if she is merely a confused mortal. "I've seen all those witchcraft books at the local bookstore but I can assure you, sir, my stuff is all herbal. See here," she says, arms releasing so one can snatch up a bottle that holds an amber liquid. "It is a draft to help one sleep, purely made out of scullcap to help ease the mind and put one at rest with a dash of chamomile put into a tea form to help one sleep. Would you be interested in such a thing? I doesn't look like you've been missing your beauty rest but you know what they say, looks can be deceiving." She grins at him again, in a flirtatious manner, her heart thrumming like a birds in an attempt to confuse him. Make him doubt himself. And trust me, Sorcha will do whatever is necessary to get out of here alive.