Ryah was a whole host of emotions, all vying for attention, not one of them quite winning out over any of the others. There was anger and embarrassment, there was an underlying current of lust still bubbling within him, there was confusion and chaos floating at the edges too. He was having a hard time making sense of it all, reconciling all those emotions. And on top of that, he was still a tiny bit drunk. It wasn't a good combination.<br/><br/>Somehow the hunter found himself in a bar. It was dark and half empty, the floor was sticky and it was exactly what he needed. Like he he'd be returning to night club. Ever again. Instead, he was drinking away his emotions via a pint of dark beer. Whatever the hell was on tap. It wasn't like he was much for beer or booze in general, but at the moment, it was an easy option. He didn't want to go home, and he didn't want to try that club again.<br/><br/>From his seat, Ryah could see people coming and going, and when Drake, of all people, walked into the joint, Ryah's eyes narrowed. Something in his chest, ballooned before he crushed it viciously and stomped it out. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice flat, as he took another drink. He had considered ignoring Drake but it was obvious this was no coincidence. It wasn't like Drake was much of a drinker. At least not of the alcoholic variety.