Yvette cozies up to them on the couch. A bottle of red wine in her hands as they share it between them. Her night's been rough. The creature she'd been hunting slipped through her fingers yet again and she was slowly becoming frustrated with herself. This isn't like her. Monsters getting the upper hand tended to land hunters like herself dead - she has to count herself lucky that she hasn't ended up like that just yet. It's unfair of her to bring this up to them, to complain and vent, especially when she'd always promised to leave those things at the door. But this case, this thing she's after, is too present on her mind to simply ignore. "I just don't understand what keeps going wrong," she says, passing the bottle to them. "I swear, I feel like I'm always one step behind them or like they already know what my plan is... But that's crazy, right?"