Dimitri stood up fully, turning around to face the slightly taller man with the thick Irish accent. He actually didn't know what happened - but there was an incredibly logical possibility that a werewolf had managed to get a good hit in on Thomas. He wasn't going to tell a stranger that, however. No...telling a stranger things about their hunting escapades...it was a fine way to get suspicion thrown onto you. Just as he was about to answer, however, another guy walked up, and mentioned a hunt tomorrow. Dimitiri's eyes widened from behind his sunglasses. What if the people in here were werewolves? You just...you didn't talk about hunts in public areas, no matter where you are.

"Got to go. Sorry about the blood." He finally muttered, walking passed Anthar and the Irishman. Going to his motorcycle, Dimitri paused to put his leather jacket on, along with a black, visored Aviator helmet, before sitting on the leather seat and revving the engine. He needed to see what Yvette wanted, and check on Thomas - that fucking idiot. Dirt and dust blasted into the air as Dimitri cleanly hit a 180, blasting out of the parking lot, and down the street, at a max speed of 90mph.