It all didn't make sense. It never did. There was a reason behind these medallions, there just had to be, because no one took the time to create them for no real reason. All the books she looked into didn't provide her information. The internet was her second best choice, but hardly anything came to surface. Of course she could go towards that white-headed brute and yet she couldn't stomach it. There was absolutely nothing good about him. He owed her. After helping them escape from that hell hole he had promised her before she dumped him off in an abandoned warehouse. He could tell her, but she didn't want to approach him. She had the wolf and the wildcat looking one. The last thing he needed to know was that she possessed a third. Her entire lithe frame was shaking quite uncontrollably. Seeing that poor old woman was a shame, but that wasn't the reason why she was so upset. The Dark Hunter behind the old Were's death was the same man that inflicted pain upon her and Frost. He was the one that brought back the man that always haunted her. As soon as the tumbler full of that amber liquid was placed in front of her, she gladly took it and swallowed it whole. Placing the glass down she gently rapped the countertop requesting another. Once more she swallowed it all feeling her nerves start to settle. The comment of drinking to quickly was ignored as she nodded her had requesting a third. Taking a deep breath she shook her head as her other hand clutched the bloodied medallion tightly. Her head would turn as she looked the man beside her up and down, catching the scent that he was a Dark Hunter. Looking around she noticed that indeed she was out of place here. This was not an establishment she approved of, much less, felt the needed to stick around. Softly she spoke as her eyes focused on the bartender filling her glass once again.

"Yes, this isn't a place I care for."

As she brought the glass to her lips she jumped up in her chair as she heard her name barked. Oh great...it was him. Setting her glass down slowly she took another deep breath knowing that he was capable of pushing her buttons. The two of them hardly ever got along. Of course the first time they met she stole his leather boot as she and Serafina ran away to leave him behind, shoeless in the woods. The last time she saw the blonde haired man they had just rescued Serafina from the thug Fae and his cronies. Both had to work together to ensure that the raven-haired witch was safe. Wordlessly there was a promise made between the two that they would at least attempt to be nice to one another for the benefit of Serafina. Turning around slowly within her chair she looked over at him, with the bloodied medallion in her hands, not wanting to be apart from it. Blue-grey eyes narrowed at the Dark Hunter as her shoulders began to hunch forward as if she were ready to respond roughly back. Before she uttered anything she watched his frame shift which caused her own to shift too. The wrongful acquisition that she would teal made one eyebrow rise upwards silently showing she was annoyed by such a thing. Reaching for her glass again she took a light sip and placed her glass down before looking him straight in the eye as she spoke calmly.

"I was walking home and while I was walking pass the alleyway, I heard a very faint 'help.' So, I cautiously entered and found this older Were-Reptilian shot...so much...why would they do such a thing...she was harmless at that age."

Dark Hunters. They were ruthless. Anyone could tell that the older woman wouldn't have made it or hardly been a problem. There was no need to shot so much silver into her, none. Looking down at the medallion she rubbed her thumb over to smear some of the blood off it, extending her arm a little bit for Azrael to see. Hardly trusting him at all to simply give the entire thing away.

"She gave me this old medallion telling me I had to keep it away from him."

Feeling like she gave him enough time to look at the object, she pulled her arm back to her, hardly wanting it to be seen out in the open. It was difficult for her to see the scantly clad women walking about. This place was owned by a former member of the Nightshade pack. She hardly wished for the staff to be aware about her let alone the medallion. Frost didn't need to hear about it. Although Azrael did need to know just who was involved. Taking another sip of that top shelf whiskey she looked the Dark Hunter square in the eye. Raven hardly wished to explain everything to him especially having a stranger nearby overhear what they are saying. However, if Azrael was going to accuse her of stealing then she would try to steer him to believing that she was the victim and not the one he needed to hunt down.

"Do you remember when I went to the Council to speak about the Dark Hunter that wrongfully entrapped and tortured Frost, and I? That was the one that shot the Were and shot at me, so of course I would run."

As soon as she was nearly healed she had gone to the Council to make a formal complaint. Using her telepathy she shared her memories of what had occurred that night in that dungeon. However, she was dismissed given a false apology and an insincere promise that they would get to the bottom of it. Dismissed with a sense of failure and further distrust of the Council she vowed that eventually she would find a way to get after him...somehow. And then one day she would deal with him hopefully with her pack at her side. With Azrael's attention now on the other man beside them, she turned herself and nodded politely.

"I'm sorry, yes my name is Raven and this is Azrael, the friendliest Dark Hunter within the city."

Raven Clocksworth.