For a long point in time, Alexander had too been consumed with what he was, with what he had become. For many years he'd allowed himself to be enthralled with the hunt. There was a certain level of skill to it, one that was certainly contributed by his short years spent creating a kingdom that, much to his eternal despair, fell apart the moment of his official death. In the end, however, Alexander had lost his way. The game had lost it's goal and in the end it had led to Alexander becoming what he was certain would be classified as the worst Dark Hunter the world had seen for quite sometime. He watched the emotions that flittered across her facial features at what he was sure she believed to be a bizarre suggestion. He was hardly concerned, however, with her possible unwillingness to undergo such an unpopular avenue, after all he'd never met anyone beyond himself that didn't feel those primal urges. Instead, the Dark Hunter chose to focus upon what he very well could assist with in the immediate future, shifting to settle ever so slightly at her side, ignoring the tears that glazed over her gaze in the same fashion that she seemed to so desperately want to do - even though they both knew all too well it was there.

If there was any one trait that Alexander had mastered within his life - it was that of patience. If there was any one game he certainly dominated at, it was that of waiting and waiting the elder man did. He gave her what he viewed as a much needed moment to regain her composure, to push away those negative memories and thoughts that lingered upon the forefront of her brain. He was hardly the comforting sort. In fact he couldn't even remember the last time that someone drew any sort of satisfaction from his presence. Never the less, here he was, subjecting the young female to his continued existence even though he was fairly certain that she'd much rather be alone during such a trying time. After a moment, however, Alexander saw fit to rise, having decided that she'd had enough time to collect herself when there was still work to be done. Her hunt wasn't over yet until she'd cleaned up the mess she had created - a mess that, for some reason, he felt inclined to assist with.

His pale blue-green eyes fearlessly met those of the young woman below him, his hand held out, waiting for her grasp. Alexander could see the shift of emotions upon her feminine features, the way her gaze changed from guarded till finally falling in defeat. He felt her fingertips brush against his and effortlessly the man assist in helping to pull the young woman to her feet. Wordlessly he fell in line behind her, letting her lead the way back towards the scene it seemed she desperately wanted to avoid. He paused as she did at the door of the run down establishment, his gaze tracing the dilapidated facade of the building. He too could smell the lingering stench of death, but unlike her he hardly strayed from such a smell, instead reminded of his youth. It was funny really, how such a disliked scent could make him so....nostalgic. Despite his momentary distraction, the man hardly flinched at the thought that entered his head, it held a sense of femininity to it, one that he automatically knew was hers. "I know." It was a simple thought in reply, channeled perfect for her benefit only whilst he kept all those lingering memories that threatened to be dragged up at bay. She was not the first telepathic individual he'd met. Nor would she surely be his last. Thankfully though, his experience with her kind had long ago taught him how to keep the things he wanted private so. It taught him how to not assault her with all the things he surely could have.

Instead, Alexander turned his attention towards the task at hand, stepping into the darkness of the warehouse and towards the lifeless body the rested upon the floor. There was a soft sigh upon his lips as his gaze traced over the figure below him. "Did you have a plan for him?" Alexander inquired briefly, glancing upwards at her. Through out the years he'd work with many a hunters. Some had a burial site prepared before they hunted - meticulously planning out every single detail from before the victim even awoke for the day. Others, he found, flew by the seat of the pants, sometimes to the point of killing indiscriminately and with no effort to "clean up". She seemed to be the type to like things to go her way, that he'd already seen quite blatantly and hardly wanted to step on her toes now. His assistance was all he was providing and he suspected she'd hardly appreciate him waltzing in the midst of her battle to take the reins on her kill.