Shadewood get used to it

Sorry, Marie! Assumed that because there are no plants or berries, she'd have to use blood for her desc.

Perhaps in other company, the youthful Mayfair would have been more accepting of the woman’s appearance. His brief conversation with the cinnamon cloaked woman was interrupted by the seemingly blood-stained ghost, and his gaze held their own condescending disdain as she encroached upon him. The white stranger was grisly only in the sense that her appearance indicated injury.. or a lack of hygiene.
 
The way she moved and the voice she spoke with indicated she was indeed fine otherwise, and with a harder stare of his fiery eyes, Constantine could almost swear there was a black eye in that socket. The scent of blood did not grow as she inched closer, and he studied her with mild confusion.
 
He ignored the question fully – determining that the potential threat of disease that lingered before him far more important. “What happened to you?”