As if she had breached the surface of a deep ocean, she awakened from a nightmare with a gasp. Trembling breaths escaped her as her heart thundered powerfully. Ava pushed the blankets from her form, letting her feet touch the floorboards; the cold a sobering sensation. She buried her face in her palms, glossy tresses falling forward as she hung her head and gathered her composure. A soft curse fell from her lips as she looked to the glass of water on the nightstand of her simple quarters, hands shaking as she lifted the cup and downed the contents. Already she could feel herself calm, and the fatigue that called her to slumber faded away once she glanced at the glowing, red numbers on the alarm clock.<br/><br/>10:42PM.<br/><br/>It had been days since Scarlett’s disappearance, an occurrence that wasn’t unusual to those closest to her. She had a habit of vanishing, running off when things got tense or unfair-- which was often in the Order of Bergeron. The society of Hunters had strict rules, stringent and unbending guidelines to follow. For a rebel like Scarlett Bergeron, being bound by rigid structures under the inflexible regime that was her own family was akin to being imprisoned. Every now and then she needed to break free, spread her defiant wings and get away from it all. But, this time it was different. Ava could feel it, sense it in the strange aura that hung about the grand, plantation style home. The energy was off, and it was thin; so slight that was almost imperceptible to her. But, her suspicions of something nefarious at play were dismissed. Theodore and Savannah Bergeron, the leaders of the Order, claimed they knew their daughter. They were convinced that she would return as she always had; when the money ran out or when privilege no longer served her in the real world.<br/><br/>Ava was not so content to leave her fate up to chance. It was why she packed her things then and there, filling it with clothes and what weapons she could so that she could catch the last ferry across Lake Pontchartrain to New Orleans where Scar was most likely to be. There were a few places she frequented, bars to drown her shallow sorrows, clubs to dance the night away, and hotels to bed sketchy strangers. She began with the most likely, a bar by the name of Rag and Bone by the water. The dark pub was alive with music, the twang of a guitar and the thumping beat of drums. It was loud and packed, bodies from wall to wall. People swarmed the bar. If they weren’t competing for the attention of the purple-haired bartender, then they were conversing and laughing.<br/><br/>She pushed her way through the crowd, squeezing by the throngs of people. When she was visible to the bartender, she raised a gloved hand to call her over.<br/><br/>“Let me guess, you’re looking for Scar?” The purple-haired woman asked, leaning on the surface of the bar.<br/><br/>“I am. Have you seen her?” Ava tried to keep her voice at a level where she wasn’t quite speaking over the music, needing the rhythm to conceal the topic of their discussion.<br/><br/>“Not since two days ago. She came in here for a couple drinks on a slow night, met a couple of swamp rats, and left.” The bartender said, looking over her shoulder at all the eager patrons. Ava knew she didn’t have long before she lost her attention.<br/><br/>“Did she leave with them? Do you recall anything about them?”<br/><br/>“They come in here every now and then. Maggie knew them. Said they live on the bayou, somewhere near St. John or something like that. Real trash, if you know what I mean. Listen, wish I could help more, but I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll keep an eye out for her.”<br/><br/>St. John’s by the bayou was shifter territory. Though Scarlett was reckless, she wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t have gone alone or willingly, not without weapons. “No, you’ve helped a great deal. Thanks a lot, Birdie. I owe you one.” Ava let the woman return to her duties, slipping back out of the crowd as gracefully and as swiftly as she could.<br/><br/>She knew the streets well, having lived there all her life. She knew that back roads and shortcuts like the back of her hand. The well-studied pathways led her to the woods, and under the cloak of night she could ready herself before she breached the line of the natural world and stepped into shifter territory. Where anything could happen. Ava could hear the faint sound of a melody in the distance, vaguely see the shape of an old structure. She opened up her bag, her back to a nearby tree as she pulled out a handgun. Swift gloved hands attached the silencer, then dislodged the clip to replace the bullets with silver rounds. She pulled out a<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fimgur.com%2FyTCMUAs&amp;hash=166527c24993a637d2b9085496fa3835" href="https://imgur.com/yTCMUAs" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">jumpsuit</a>, able to slip it on over her clothes so that she could blend better in the darkness. Clad in black, she covered her things the loose brush that covered the ground.