Very little was spoken betwixt the strange pair as quiet clacks vibrating in the night air—the street still surprisingly empty save the sleeping man—giving them both easy room to travel. As they quietly approached the building, Lyselle found herself silently thinking, [i]‘she is staying here? But wouldn't it be easy to find?’[/i] Despite her nervousness, her curiosity flared as it ever did, when confronted with new information accompanied by a quizzical knitting of her eyebrows. However, as soon as her older companion spoke of enchantments, her face swirled back to a mix of uncertainty and yet comfort, her curiosity sated for the moment. [i]‘Not many hunters would expect a normal loft in either case… too easy to track…’[/i] she echoed to herself as the both of them slid inside the elevator.

The new scents assaulted the huntress as they ascended the building, inhaling slowly and closing her eyes, picturing a flower field in the middle of a forest. At least the ancient vampiress had good taste, though it was subtly surprising, as she originally envisioned ancients holing away in long forgotten ruins or castles, flooded with the stench of blood and rot. Her eyes opened slowly and she paid a glance to her host—their bond had grown more loose now, making it more difficult to read the age-old woman, but she could at least sense something she was not expecting: the faintest hint of nervousness. What did such a timeworn woman need to be nervous about? It was Lyselle who should be fretting and wanting to run away, right? Not to say that thought had not crossed her mind… but how could she not follow? The vampiress had been surprisingly kind and soft with her—almost making her feel… safe.

As they stepped off the elevator, she took in another inhale of scents, catching the gentle hints of leather and firesmoke which tugged her lips into a faint smile. Interest sparked once more as she tilted her head to the side and listened to ageless incantations flowing from the haunting woman, soaking in and analyzing what little she could. [i]‘That sounds vaguely familiar,’[/i] she would note, pursing her lips gently in thought. Regardless, once the enchantments had been broken, she was allowed entrance—where the vampiress was quick to latch the protections back into place. [i]‘Smart.’[/i]

There was something oddly satisfying about the venerable vampire simply stating what she was going to do, even without asking Lyselle if she [i]liked[/i] tea, but the huntress did not argue and instead just curved her lips upwards gently. Then new thoughts intruded as she waited—the struggle to believe she was here, in a vampire lair; that it was so well kept; the smells that swirled around her; all the little trophies kept from times in which Lys had not even been born. A lot of hunters—and no doubt other vampires—would call her soft for clinging to such things, and yet she had survived nonetheless, weathered hundreds of battles and come out alive despite her apparent [i]softness[/i].

What the vampiress must’ve lived through, Lyselle thought… before the same thoughts turned back on her. What would she do now? Where would she go? Was she only being sheltered out of pity? Perhaps she meant to keep Lyse as a human pet? Would she be passed around other vampires? Shown off? Fed upon? And even if she were let free—where would she go? Live a normal life? The huntress quietly clicked her tongue at that thought. There was no way she could manage a [i]normal[/i] life. A wave of anxiety rippled across her as the reality of never returning to the Vigil sank in once more—everyone that once smiled at her would now look upon her with disgust. She didn't have anyone or anything… besides an ancient vampiress she just met.

Then suddenly she heard her name, causing her to jump ever so slightly, looking to the side to see that acquainted, beautiful face, smooth white snow-skinned arms—even her hands were somehow alluring—and in them sat a cup. The aroma of mint wafted over her gently, calming her instantly, before reaching out and taking it with both hands. For a brief moment she felt her own digits brush against the vampiress’ palm, meeting the ghostly woman's violet gaze, unable to keep the softest blush from stroking her mortal cheeks.

[color=#9BA7C3][b]“Th-thank you…”[/b][/color] she whispered, her voice soft, unsteady. She slipped into the offered seat and took a small sip, letting the warmth ground her trembling thoughts. After a beat, she lifted her eyes once more.

[color=#9BA7C3][b]“U-um… may I… ask your name?”[/b][/color]