<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">Upon hearing his warning she ducked, her instincts making her act first as ask questions later. A rock whizzed past her, a distinct and contrasting sound to the ambient sounds of the swamp; the buzz of mosquitoes and the chirp of crickets. Whatever object the stone struck clattered from a perch in a nearby tree, clattering to the ground. As he walked by her, she glared in his direction. Never had she met someone so irksome, and inwardly it amazed her that he could do so little to irritate her. There was something about his cool demeanor that rubbed her the wrong way, the way he wore his lopsided grins when he was right or making awful jokes. But, he didn’t seem bad. Ava might not have been able to tolerate him otherwise. Regardless of the very important fact of needing him for information, she wouldn’t have entertained the idea of working alongside him if he was one of those unsavory types. <br/>
<br/>
Ava allowed him to check on his precious weapon, then resumed the journey through the dark woods. Were it not for moonbeams trickling the canopies of leaves and moss, it would have been difficult to find her way back to the old tree where she had hidden her own treasures. Her footsteps were quick and sure, hurried as they avoided fallen limbs and lifted roots. While her pace was a determined one, because she was eager for answers, she listened while the Hunter considered her question. Ava found herself holding back an amused laugh at his remark, but her lips did curl into a half-hearted smile; one that didn’t quite glow with its normal radiance since it was muted with restraint. <br/>
<br/>
Perhaps he was a little funny.<br/>
<br/>
“I could have, and I still might, but I promised you dinner first.” She said, her smile growing slightly as he mentioned his name. It suited him. “A pleasure? I don’t know if I should be flattered or suspect you of being a liar since I foiled your plans this evening, Wes.” <br/>
<br/>
The mound of brush where she left her bag was in sight. Once she reached it, she crouched down and began to dust away the leaves and dirt. “I’m Ava Devereaux.” She pulled off her leather gloves, but not to shake his hand. Physical contact was always a mystery experience. She never knew if she was going to have a normal experience, or be subjected to an onslaught of abstract visions. If she was really unfortunate, it would be accompanied by a migraine or nausea. Instead, she shoved the gloves into the bag and put away the weapon she wore against her thigh. “Where would you like to go? Any special requests?” Ava asked as she unbuckled her holster and unzipped the black jumpsuit she wore. With it on she looked more like a cop than a civilian. She pulled the material off, revealing a simple outfit beneath; a white top and black pants. <br/>
<br/>
Shoving the clothing in along with the rest of her things, she zipped the bag and slung it over her shoulder. </span>