[Eyes lift up to meet hers, a hand coming up to push away hair that’s fallen into his face.]

Ah, I—

[He seems caught between something fearfully eldritch and the humanity instilled in him, waiting to see which wins out in any given moment. Vincent swallows and shakes his head, pulling focus back together by frayed edges.]

It’s always a long night for a hunter. Or a man who was once a hunter; or perhaps even longer for a man like me… [He trails off, realizing he’s not saying much of anything, then tries again.]

I’d like something to drink. Please.