A soft snort of darkened amusement left the Artist's nose at Adrien's insistence that, at the very least, he didn't bite. It was enough to draw his fingers tentatively to the bandage on his neck and yet, his soft probing hardly hurt as he expected it too - not after the vampire's teeth had practically sawed him open like a piece of meat. How he despised that memory, the pain still entirely too fresh in his mind. That soft baritone voice, however, drew his gaze upward with a hint of surprise fluttering across his features. "It is?" He inquired, his brows drawing together as he slowly peeled the medical tape at the edge of the bandage. Surely, with how much it had hurt, it wouldn't have healed in one day...could it? Maybe he'd have to go to an actual clinic to get it looked at. The thought lingered upon the forefront of his mind as he pulled off the bandage, only to glance at the spot of blood on the once ivory surface. The very hue of it suggested that there had been far more damage then he'd suspected and yet, when his fingers moved to gingerly touch that very wound, he was met with nothing but utterly flawless flesh. A clear glimpse of confusion crossed his features and yet, without a mirror, Alistair could hardly confirm just how much his skin had healed, much less if there was a wound there at all. Still - he most certainly could not have imagined last night, he was sure of it!

The emerald hue of his irises fluttered towards the empty seat across from Adrien and slowly, Alistair made his way towards it, only to settle at the table where he was presented with dinner and a drink - and not the kind he usually enjoyed. At the present moment, however, it hardly mattered as Alistair reached for the beverage, the Artist finding himself suddenly rather...parched. It was only Adrien's inquiry on how he felt that caused him to pause, even with the lid in his hand and the opened beverage waiting for him. Alistair paused in consideration before insisting he had quite the headache - the whole world, after all, somehow seemed...sharper. It was as if his brush with death had brought everything into focus. Though surely that was a rather common theme with people who had nearly lost their lives, wasn't it? The Artist shook his head, trying to brush away those thoughts that tried to simply reason away those changes within himself he'd begun to notice. His gaze flickered briefly towards Adrien, the Hunter only encouraging him to eat. It was that mention of healing, however, that caused him to pause. "What? Ra...rapid....healing?" He questioned, the intense hue of his gaze hardly leaving his savior even as he brought the bottle of Gatorade to his lips. Adrien's reassurance that he wasn't crazy hardly helped to settle his concerns as much as Alistair expected the man would have liked. After all, he found it difficult to believe he really had...turned into...well, something else.

Still, even he couldn't deny that something had changed. Even the Gatorade he chugged seemed....far more appetizing then he remembered. It was only once half the bottle was gone that Alistair seemed to remember those manners he was instilled with growing up. He pulled the drink from his lips, rather caught off guard by just how much he had consumed before he tried to show some level of appreciation for all Adrien had done for him. It surely wasn't enough, considering without the man he'd be little more than another corpse on the streets of Sacrosanct, but it was all he could do at the present moment. Adrien, however, seemed keen to brush off the whole thing as the Hunter encouraged him to eat. The artist picked up his fork, only for his brow to furrow in a vague inquiry of just what about this whole affair was so odd for Adrien! He hardly inquired after it, however, as he stabbed his fork into the first bit of stir fry. He was already halfway chewing his first bite when Adrien asked if there was anything he wanted to know. There was....everything he wanted to know! He didn't even know all that he felt he needed to know! How did he begin asking things he couldn't even fathom in the first place? It was the words never age and immortal that made Alistair all but choke upon the food that had been in his mouth - his emerald eyes sharply rising towards his companion. Alistair reached for that bottle of Gatorade, the newly turned Hunter washing down the food even as Adrien moved onto a far more personal issue - the vampire that had nearly murdered him.

Alistair's head shook ever so slightly as he put down the drink, swallowing both it and the food left in his mouth. "I don't know anything about him. I'd never met him before. He had a cat, it was in a box, it was crying, I picked it up and pet it and he called me a thief and tried to kill me. What did you mean by immortal? How old are you? How can you be immortal and still die?" Alistair, it seemed, was still struggling with the utmost basics of his new species, Adrien doing strikingly little to offer him anything more than a whole plethora of new questions he hadn't realized he had. He listened intently as Adrien insisted he was going to 'break it down' and yet, even this did little more than dash his hopes that he could just return to the life he had as if last night had never happened at all. "Learn...to control what? What can I do now? Put an end to...vampires? Can't I just....not hunt vampires and then everything will be fine? You just said I shouldn't throw myself at them!" It hadn't occurred to Alistair that both vampires and other creatures might make an effort to come after him and, frankly, he hadn't the slightest idea of any notion of...powers or anything of the sort. His own knowledge of the supernatural was rather limited upon what each species did and why it was best to avoid certain ones over others. All of this was only leaving him all the more desperate to understand while assuring him Adrien was going to offer very little in the way of actual answers.

The very last thing Alistair expected was the inquiry of what hearts meant. His emerald eyes stared almost blankly at the man across from him before Adrien slid a note scrawled neatly on a pink post-it across the table. For a silent moment, the artist stared at the neatly drawn heart, those words read in silence before his emerald eyes slowly shifted upwards towards the hunter in front of him. "Are you kidding me?" He inquired in blatant disbelief. "You just told me I'm immortal and can't go back to my normal life and now your asking me about....hearts?" Alistair leaned back in his chair, the artist was entirely taken aback as he stared at the pink note in his fingers. He shook his head, his free hand raising to run through his ebony locks. "I...I guess? It's like....saying 'Love Audi'. Who is Audi, anyways?"