The hunter nearly spat his drink out. "Me?<i>I'm</i>the one avoiding the problem?" he said, his voice not nearly as even as he would have liked. "That's--that's..." It was preposterous. Ridiculous. It was so far from the mark, the mark might as well have been in another country. "I'm not the one who..." Except he was the one. He<i>had </i>been the one to initially avoid Drake. At least, that very first morning. So sue him. He had been new; he was<i>still </i>new to all of this. He sure as fuck didn't have a clue what he was doing. Ryah felt very much like a fledgling baby bird, tossed out of the nest and left to fend for himself.<br/><br/>He set his drink down, staring at it on the sticky bar counter, not quite able to meet Drake's eyes, letting out a slow breath. "There are a lot of things going on right now," he began slowly, trying to gather his thoughts. "I wasn't meaning to...avoid this if that's the impression I gave." He just. didn't know how to deal with this. He didn't know what to say, how to act. He didn't know what was expected of him, or what he was supposed to do. It wasn't like there was a manual on this, or a WikiHow. It wasn't like he had anyone he could ask or talk to. And anyway, he was a guy. They didn't do feelings or deep and meaningful. At least, that was what he had grown up believing. He finally gathered enough courage to look up and catch Drake's eye, trying to gauge his reaction, see what the vampire made of all of this though.<br/><br/>"Look, I..." He trailed off, wishing he had his sister's eloquence, her people skills. She would know what to say or do, know how to make Ryah feel at ease while giving him solid advice. Or at least, advice that didn't make him feel completely lost. "I don't know what I'm doing, all right," he said at last, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the din of the dingy pub.