Misty nodded her head solemnly and spoke.<br/><br/>"Alright. I'll be heading out, then. I'm....sorry for you loss," she said, then turned to speak to another officer on-scene. After a brief exchange, she headed for her car and made the trip back to the station. The morning shift was just coming in, and, thankfully, fresh coffee and doughnuts were still available. Misty helped herself and sat at her desk, methodically filling out forms and doing her best to track down one Amanda Harris in Indiana. Leaving a few voice mails, she wrapped up her report and stood stiffly. The inevitable had arrived; she had to go home.<br/><br/>Thirty minutes later, Misty was showered and sprawled across her bed, dead asleep with her still-damp hair. In her dream, she was chasing a biter down an impossibly long alleyway. When she tackled him to the ground, his face was lit by a nearby streetlamp. One eye was glossy white. The other was gone, hidden behind an eye patch.<br/><br/>Sitting bolt upright in her bed, Misty drug in huge lungfulls of air to slow her speeding heart. A dog barked in the distance, somewhere down the block. Should she call Rowan? What would she even say? 'Hey I had a dream...are you okay?' Snorting at herself, she got up, dressed, and made her way into work.