<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">The Hunter was an enigma for sure, straddling lines between cordial and witty, quiet and pensive. Ever since leaving the swamp his demeanor was less that of a roguish gentleman, and more of what she expected of a man who had lost everything. Every now and then his eyes appeared distant, the same far-off look that overcame his features upon her prying. Ava knew that haunted expression well. It was haunted, one of loss and mourning left unresolved like a house rattled by a storm; the debris was all over, a minefield of sorrow and anger to bring memories to life when stumbled upon. She was willing to bet he was still reeling, feeling the effects even as he seated himself across from her. Ava watched while he stretched, joints popping as he twisted and tilted his neck, physically exorcising those ghosts so that he could focus. When he did he was no less intense, unable to conceal his extreme distaste for <i>Dresden</i>, the Coven leader who seemed to be at the heart of both of their problems.<br/>
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There was no doubt in her mind that the Bergeron’s would have more information. If the Vampire had been around for as long as Wes had suspected, it was likely that her Order had him on their radar. The trouble was accessing their database. Ava knew that their system was closely monitored, and researching a target as dangerous as Dresden would attract attention and cause suspicion. Ava had no other choice but to accept Wes’ word as truth. It was hard to listen, though. With her vision blurring at the edges and the pitchy ringing in her ears steadily growing in volume, his words were swallowed. <br/>
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Her pupils shrank abruptly, turning to two pin prick dots in a sea of vivid green. Ava tried to focus, tether herself to the present by focusing on the movements of his lips and the muffled sounds that came from them. They began to distort, transforming into unrecognizable noises that no longer fit the scene that was slowly going dark. Blackness bombarded vision, closing in till the diner, all its patrons, and the Hunter were gone. Images flickered in her mind, fast like the shutter of a lens. Gloriously red hair floating in a breeze, framing an unfamiliar face. A dangling jewel on a dainty chain and an adoring smile. It was a pleasant sight, idyllic scenery outside the window rushing by. But, layered within the flashes of peaceful images, was something dark. A pain lanced in her temples, sharp and piercing. The throbbing sensation marked a horrifying turn as it always did. The lovely woman’s smile broadened, lips pulling tighter and tighter until it was unnatural-- so wide that it looked like her cheeks might split. Crimson spilled between her teeth, pouring out profusely while her body violently shook. She reached out, a hand swiping at her.<br/>
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Ava jumped in her seat, the image dispersing suddenly and miraculously. Her pupils returned to normal, and the diner came back into view. Breathing deeply, as though she had run for miles and miles, she surveyed her surroundings-- as if she couldn’t believe the reality in front of her. The shrill ringing was beginning to subside, quieting with each second that passed. When it was gone the space seemed louder, over-heightened as her sensitive ears regained their capabilities. The lights in the fixtures seemed brighter as well, causing her to squint while they adjusted. She was visibly disoriented, the remnants of a debilitating pain still ailing her. <br/>
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<i>“Writing any of this down?"</i><br/>
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Her attention returned to the Hunter. The necklace in her vision came to mind, now an ornament on his rear-view mirror. It belonged to the woman; a woman from his past and likely the source of that troubled look he wore. But, Ava was determined to appear unphased, like she hadn’t glimpsed into some metaphysical pool of distorted and abstract information. She simply nodded, an inappropriate and unconvincing response-- even to herself. <br/>
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“. . .  Yes. I’m . . . I’m listening.” Another nod and her upper lip was tickled with warmth. She lifted a hand and gently brushed, a bright red streak staining the back of her fingers. While the sight of blood was not something that made her faint she felt lightheaded and ill, the overwhelming combination of symptoms wearing on her. “Just . . . Just give me a second.” Ava pushed herself up, concealing the subtle stagger by supporting touching her hands to anything that could allow her support on her way to the restroom. </span>