The forceful wind pushed back against his hair and face, sending the short, dirty blonde locks backwards, but his sunglasses kept the wind from affecting his vision, allowing Dimitri to see ahead of him without any problems. His face was taut into a tight smirk, the wind nearly searing his skin with pure heat, but Dimitri's tough skin was used to biting, sharp cold, and extremely hot, sweaty climates, so this wasn't bad. 

Going 201 mph on his Suzuki Hayabusa, Dimitri loved this sort of adrenaline....everything moved by in a blur as he blazed a sparking, fiery trail down the mountain's long road, body spring-loaded and tense as he smoothly, sharply made a turn that sent him drifting on the curve, the back of his tire nearly touching the safety-gate that, if it hadn't been there, would probably have sent him flying off the mountain, into the forest below. Only the pure agilty and speed of his quick turning and his whip-smart brain allowed him to make the drift, and as the headlights of a nearby truck began shining in his direction, Dimitri steadily dropped his speed to a lower, but still dangerously fast, 94mph.

The sound of his phone vibrating forced the hunter to lower his speed even more. At this point, Greyville was evident in the distance, and soon enough, he'd be on a high-population street, so he wouldn't even be able to go full speed. Keeping one hand on the gas and steering wheel, he opened up the text, reading it quickly. A smirk formed on his face. Yvette...a bar, hm? Probably the one that often times had an annoying lady that screamed and drank a lot of vodka, along with what seemed like the same group of people each, and every time. He had a nagging suspicion that something was going on there, but for now, it was more like a group of friends, than something more sinister.

Putting his motorcycle back into gear, Dimitri gassed the engine.

__________________

The tall man entered the bar, his dark, dirty blonde hair still rather wind-swept. Through the window, one could see the sleek, powerful black motorcycle that he had just parked outside, chained to the ground, and with small, unnoticeable silver spikes sticking out of the seat. The man glanced around once, gloved hands resting in the pockets of his leather jacket, before he caught sight of Yvette. Sitting down beside the other Hunter, Dimitri glanced up at a waitress, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

"A glass of water." He spoke up. His voice was deep, and rather accented with a noticeably Russian accent. He took off his sunglasses, exposing dark blue eyes, before pressing his gloved fingers against his temple. "A bar, girly?" The question was directed towards the smaller figure sitting beside him.