<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">The urgency in the hunter’s voice was not entirely unexpected. She could see it in his body language, the way he carried himself and the frustration he held at bay; he was on edge. Though she was wary of his impatience with the shifter, she was content to allow him to continue. Ava was still curious about his business, what brought him to the bayou in the dead of night to a den of supernaturals. She was also interested in knowing who <i>they</i> were, the men who Scarlett was taken by. Things weren’t adding up in her mind, especially as the wounded shifter went on to answer the hunter’s questions. The fact that a large Coven was working with other supernaturals for territory was unusual. Vampires regarded shifters and other beings like them as lowly, much like hunters regarded supernatural creatures in general. It brought up more questions, ones that were clearly unable to be addressed by the dying shifter slumped against the wall. The hunter beat his fist against the wall in fury, but seemed to realize his anger was getting the better of him. Ava willingly accepted the arrow, the gleam of silver making the shifter look more lively than he had moments before. <br/>
<br/>
She put the shifter out of its misery, extinguishing what little light remained in  his eyes as she jammed the arrowhead into his throat. A liquidy gurgle emitted from his bloodstained lips, dripping strands of saliva and crimson fluid falling from his mouth. For a while he croaked and wheezed, the sizzle of silver making each passing second he remained agonizing. Ava rose to her feet, letting the weapon do its work as she left him to pass. She made her way back through the obstacle course of dead bodies, finding the hunter outside. His silhouette in the dwindling light of the bonfire moved back and forth, an indication of his agitation. Standing a respectable distance away, on the steps of the porch, she watched while he kicked empty cans and let out a series of expletives. Fortunately she wasn’t faint of heart. In her line of work, she had heard many colorful words-- some from her own lips and others from those who aimed them at her. <br/>
<br/>
Ava realized that he knew something. While she was particularly cold and prickly before, he had something that she wanted. Information. “No need to apologize,” she mentioned, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned against a questionable wooden pillar. It supported her well enough though there was a slight give that made her nervous momentarily. “You’re understandably upset.” That was the thing with unaffiliated hunters, ones that didn’t come from bloodlines or associate with them. Often times they were deeply wronged, some tragedy setting them on the path of revenge. She hadn’t come across many, but it was a common story that threaded them all together. It made them emotional, risky. For the members of her Order, it was all business. The supernatural were detested all the same, but the way they regarded them was akin to how an exterminator handled pests. The approach was very different.<br/>
<br/>
But, her business was personal. Ava hadn’t received the green light to pursue her current mission. She took it upon herself to investigate, which meant her resources were limited by what she could gather on her own. They were more alike in that than she was willing to admit. <br/>
<br/>
“So, if it wasn’t the shifters you were tracking then it was this Coven they were supposed to meet with tonight? What do you know about them? Why would they be offering shifters territory and making arrangements for muscle?” She asked, hopeful that he was cooperative and that she wouldn’t have to show all her cards in order to get what she needed out of him.</span>