Sure. No Gifts. I'm worried about what the fucking Umbra even looks like around this Weaver-fucked shit hole anyway.

[ Mackenzie drops into a fighting stance, hands held in front of her in the attitude of a boxer. When you heal everything faster, you worry less about breaking someone else's nose or your own finger
She can feel the Rage inside of her, snapping and snarling and slavering to be let free from it's leash. She holds tight though. This is no place for a Frenzy. ]