A/N: Don't ask me why I decided to write a wintery story in summer, I don't know myself. This fic is a mix of a few different things, the main ones being a supernatural/modern/college AU featuring an Elsa with powers. As you may have guessed from the summary, I'll be taking some inspiration from Buffy in terms of tone. My lovely cover art is from Jungie14295 on tumblr. Check out her other art, the link will be on my profile.

There will be a glossary of creatures at the end of each chapter, which has their location in the chapter as well as a short description of them. Please enjoy!

Monsters Call It Home

Anna tastes blood in her mouth. Dirt too, but she finds the blood to be a bit more disconcerting. If she swallows any more of it, she knows it'll come back up in an extremely unpleasant way. So she spits out a mouthful, the spray a blinding red against the snow-covered ground.

God, this was supposed to be her day off. Her new roommate was moving in today and she wanted to be there to greet her, maybe even help her unpack. They could have ordered pizza and gotten to know each other.

But no—some goddamn ahool of all things had to start trouble. It wasn't enough for him to just stick to a vegetarian diet like all of his other man-sized bat brethren. No, he decided that he wanted to be a vampire bat, using the citizens of Arendelle (a town which already has a mysteriously high mortality rate) as his personal juice boxes.

Anna got the page informing her that the ahool is no longer fit for this world and she's just spent the last two hours hauling ass through the forest, switching between chasing and being chased by a giant, psychotic creature with a severe case of bloodlust.

The ahool swoops down only a few feet away from her, sniffing curiously at a red patch of snow at its feet before a long, thin tongue darts out to taste it. Anna can practically feel the rumble of approval that rips through the creature.

"So," Anna pants, getting up as quickly as her bruised ribs and talon-slashed arms will allow, "fan of the A-positive blood, are you? I had you pegged for an O-lover myself, but I regret to inform you that the Anna Theron Blood Bank is now closed. You'll have to try harder for your next taste."

The creature turns his attention away from the ground to stare at her through dead yellow eyes. Standing on his hind legs, he's easily north of five-feet tall and looks sorely disappointed to learn that the meager sampling of blood is all he'll get. He lets out an ear splitting screech and half-runs, half-flies towards Anna, talons nearly lifting off the ground.

Anna rolls to the side at the last second, sweeping her crossbow up and putting an arrow in the back of the ahool's neck. It does little to slow him down, being just as ineffective as the ones in his ribs and wing.

Anna curses her stupidity—she shouldn't have brought the crossbow tonight. It's hard to wield, slow to reload. Honestly, she only brought the damn thing because it was a recent purchase and she wanted to test it out. Maybe she should have upgraded to the full-sized one instead of stubbornly sticking with the mini...

"Fine, dick," Anna mumbles, shaking away her distracting thoughts. "I have other treats at my disposal." Her backpack, which has been weighing her down since the beginning of this fun-filled mission, is now being ripped open. Her hand squeezes around a pack and she takes it out, waving it temptingly at the creature. "Didn't I say you looked like someone who might enjoy the taste of type-O? Well here, this one's on me." Aiming for the stars, she throws the blood bag as hard as possible.

The ahool doesn't need much incentive to fly after it, but Anna is too busy feeling around for another item in her bag to really track his progress. The net gun she grasps is aimed at the creature's back, and she fires it as quickly as she can. The net blooms around the ahool before encasing and entangling him, sending him plummeting towards the ground. A fine mist of snow erupts from his rough landing, and Anna shields her face with a hand even as she begins to move towards him.

She stakes the net to the ground in several places, careful to sidestep the creature's sharp claws and wingtips. A hard yank at his restrained neck loosens one of her arrows and she reloads it into her crossbow. The ahool looks a little pitiful now and if he wasn't so clearly deranged, Anna might feel bad for him. But he stepped over the line when he decided to feast on humans. Ahools weren't naturally inclined to eat meat and were, for the most part, peaceful creatures. This one is nothing more than a rotten egg giving a bad name to the rest of his species.

Anna winds the crossbow and aims squarely at one of his now-bulging eyes. The shot is fast and the death just as quick.

Well, Anna thinks as grabs her phone and dials one of the Guild's many numbers, that wasn't so bad.

The cleanup is predictably messy, however. The body has to be taken care of quickly, before it attracts the attention of any nearby harpies. By the time Anna is done writing up her field report and handing over the carcass to Cleanup for disposal, it's nearly three in the morning.

She sighs tiredly. So much for meeting the roomie.

The drive back to her apartment is a short one helped along by singing with the songs on the radio. Her hand shakes slightly when she unlocks the door to her apartment. She really needs to put some of that new healing salve on her body—while she is strong, she's still only human.

She enters the apartment quietly, unsurprised to see the empty boxes outside the roomie's door. Anna's glad they won't have to share a bedroom; it'll be trouble enough having only one bathroom between the two of them.

Once again, she curses her landlord. If he hadn't raised the rent, she wouldn't need a roommate at all. The Guild's pay is crap and it seems like most of it goes towards new clothes, weapons, books, or whatever supernatural healing supplies she can get her hands on. Anna had been using the spare room to hold all of those items, though they're now stuffed into every nook and cranny of her own bedroom.

(Last week, she nearly pricked herself with a fast-acting poison dart sticking out between her mattress and bedframe when she was changing her sheets. Now all potentially lethal items are split between the four duffel bags stowed in her closet.)

If the rent were cheaper in other parts of town, Anna would totally move. But it's not, and the location can't be beat—she's only ten minutes away from the university she takes classes at and the wooded area behind the apartment complex is perfect for hiding bodies (yes, she realizes she sounds like a psychopath).

So she sucked it up and put out an ad for a roommate. It went something like, 'Roommate wanted: must be female, clean, and value privacy above all else. Will probably not see much of each other, but let's be friends if we do.' Due to it being late into the semester with most people already committed to their leases, she had only gotten one reply by someone named…Eleanor? Alyssa? Anna doesn't quite remember, but in her defense she had both midterms and a nest of flesh-eating beetles to deal with that week. She figured she'd meet the roommate eventually.

But now, in the tiny and dark apartment, Anna hopes the other woman won't need to take a late-night trip to the bathroom—she would find Anna covered in twigs and mud and blood. Not exactly the best first impression.

After Anna's done showering (and thoroughly cleaning her arrowheads in the sink), she comes out to find that the roomie's door is still firmly shut.

Good. Maybe this arrangement wouldn't be as bad as she thought.

She wakes the next morning slumped over the kitchen table, her head pressed into a napkin and a half-eaten peanut butter sandwich clutched protectively in one of her hands. Was she really so tired that she couldn't even finish eating? Lame, but definitely not unprecedented.

The first thing she realizes how cold it is in the apartment. She lets out a yawn and glances at the thermostat on the wall. 63 degrees…that doesn't seem right at all.

She makes a mental note to ask her landlord to fix the heater before staring down at her sandwich in contemplation. Was it still good to eat? It had been out for most of the night now. She takes a cautious bite at the corner. Yep. Still delicious.

Right when she's stuffing the rest of the sandwich into her mouth, her pager starts beeping like crazy. Anna nearly chokes in surprise, gooey peanut butter threatening to coat her lungs.

Flailing slightly, she manages to get the lump of sandwich down her throat successfully. After catching her breath, she reads the message on her pager.

Arachne, 9ft, 28.42°, 81.58° heading N.

Shit. She hates spiders.

She runs to her closet to change out of her pajamas and into a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and her favorite leather jacket. She gives herself a cursory glance in her bathroom mirror and grimaces slightly.

Even after applying some of her ointments to her skin last night, the gash extending from the hairline near her temple towards her jaw is only half-healed at best, and her arms aren't much better. At least all of her bruises have already become a gross, fading yellow. Not that it mattered too much at the moment—today's hunting trip would probably add a few more accessory injuries to her body. Awesome.

Her pager beeps again when she's pouring herself a cup of milk in front of the fridge, and she glares at it in suspicion. Back-to-back pages were never a good thing.

2nd arachne, 12ft, same loc

"Holy hell," she mutters under her breath, because those spiders are no joke. Two would be a definite pain to deal with. She retreats into her room again, this time making a beeline for her closet. Despite the fact that she opens it slowly and carefully, an avalanche of hunting supplies nearly buries her. She curses loudly and hurriedly sifts through the bags until she has what she needs.

She emerges from her room triumphantly, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder (one that does not contain that pain in the ass crossbow, thank you very much). Anna shoots one last cursory look at her roommate's door, which is still firmly closed. There's no way to know if the mysterious person is in there or had already left for the day. Anna shrugs to herself before stepping outside and locking the door behind her, figuring the two of them would have to cross paths eventually.

Snow has already started falling and Anna sprints to her car, head bowed against the light flurry. Once she's inside the freezing vehicle, she digs through her pockets for her phone. While she waits for the other person to pick up, she pulls on some gloves—the right one being made specifically for archery.

When the other person finally picks up, Anna can't help but grin. "Hey. Up for some extracurricular hunting?"

Anna stretches her neck this way and that, trying to get rid of the stiffness that had resulted from falling asleep in the kitchen. Figures, it wasn't the giant bat talons or the cold hard ground that had made her feel as sore as a ninety-year old, but the damn table.

She's grumbling darkly to herself about turning it into mulch when her friend's dog suddenly appears at her side, nudging the hand that's not carrying her bow. Anna smiles despite herself and runs her fingers through his thick fur. Sven always knew when she was in a foul mood, which meant Kristoff probably knew as well.

Anna glances at the man in question, who's shuffling alongside her. Two ice axes dangle loosely off his wrist straps and his trademark gray beanie is secured on his head, a few strands of blond hair poking out from beneath it.

Others tended to think he was weird, what with his tendency to talk to his dog like Sven could answer back (though this actually isn't so far from the truth). Kristoff's parents were close friends with Anna's, and they trained their children together. Sometime shortly after their first meeting, the two of them decided to become friends. And despite all of her contacts in the Guild and beyond, Anna's never seen anyone who is as deadly with his weapon of choice as Kristoff is. It's like he was born clutching a tiny little axe in his baby hands.

The image makes her chuckle and Kristoff shoots her a look full of suspicion. "You're laughing at me, aren't you?"

Anna rolls her eyes and shifts the bow in her hand. "For such a badass, you have really low self-esteem." He bristles at that so she continues with a smirk, "And yes, I was laughing at you."

Choosing not to take the moral high ground, he sticks his tongue out at her. "Oh yeah? How's your roommate situation working out?"

The abrupt change in conversation is probably supposed to catch her off guard, but it doesn't bother her at all. "Actually, I have no idea. I haven't seen her yet. Still," Anna muses, "it'll probably be better than rooming with you."

"Hey!" Kristoff says, looking affronted. "I told you, Sven needs his own room. It's not my fault you can't make do with the living room couch." For her benefit, he says the next words out loud even as his eyes become unfocused. "Isn't that right, buddy? So Little Princess here shouldn't be allowed to complain about her roommate at all."

Also for Anna's benefit, Sven huffs warm air against her hand before darting into the forest ahead of them. Anna glares at Kristoff, who's now grinning at whatever Sven told him. "Just because you have your," Anna waves her hands in front of him, making vague gestures, "'animal whisper thing' doesn't mean you guys can talk about me when I'm right in front of you. It's rude. And I wasn't complaining about my roommate. Like I said, I have no idea what she's like. She could be a hermit who never leaves her room for all I know."

Kristoff looks unconvinced. "I suppose so." His face softens a bit as he continues, "But remember that I've lived with normal folk before. It's a real pain in the ass to hide such a huge part of yourself, it feels like you can't open up at all. So just be careful with what you say or do around her."

Anna bites her lip. This situation does kind of suck. Anna's a naturally friendly person, though the only people she'd consider friends are all part of the Guild. Normal people…they're off-limits. Too much liability, too many secrets to keep. Which makes it even more frustrating that she has to live with someone normal just because she can't afford a place of her own anymore.

Kristoff's looking at her expectantly so she nods in agreement. "I know, I know," she sighs. Eager to change the conversation, she asks, "How has your week been? Any good stories?"

"I got to take down a giant serpent a few days ago. That was pretty awesome," he answers, trying and failing to look modest. He had probably been waiting with bated breath for her to ask.

"Ohh, was it one of those feathered ones?" Anna asks excitedly. It seems like Kristoff always had good stories to tell.

He shakes his head and another boyish grin crosses his face. "Nah, it was a basilisk. It must've been like sixteen feet long."

"No way!" Anna exclaims good-naturedly. "How did you kill it without looking at it?" She realizes before he can answer, "Sven."

Kristoff hums in agreement. "He clawed out the eyes and I stabbed the heart. It took a few tries since I couldn't find it. I should really brush up on my serpent anatomy," he adds thoughtfully. "How about you? Anything good?"

Anna shakes her head. "Just more of the same. Did you know we had a dingonek living in the sewers? I didn't, but HQ told me he had taken a few people as snacks and so I dealt with him earlier this week. Oh," her face brightens, "and I had an ahool last night. That one was actually pretty fun. Though it's made me begin to wonder why normal, supposedly sane people keep moving to Arendelle despite its relatively high mortality rates."

"Because of the decent cost of living and well-regarded school system?" Kristoff suggests half-jokingly. Anna nudges him in annoyance and he continues, "But one case right after another…that's rough. Good thing I'm here to help you pick up the slack."

"What slack?" Anna says, immediately on the defensive. "There's no slack here. I'm operating at full capacity!"

"Then why are there still crumbs on your face?" Kristoff teasingly pokes at her cheeks and Anna swats his hand away. "Do they have some magic capabilities I'm not aware of?"

A bark from Sven interrupts their bickering and Kristoff's eyes narrow in concentration. Without warning, he takes off running, feet crunching against the fresh powder. "Sven found them!" he yells to her, readying his axes. "Ready to work?"

Anna's right behind him, an arrow already nocked and ready to fly. "Bring it."

"Giant spiders, huh?" Her voice is exhausted and while she doesn't remember sitting down, she's somehow on the ground, her back propped up against a tree. The snow is soaking into her jeans but she can't summon enough energy to care. "I finally understand why everyone thought Hagrid was crazy for keeping one as a pet."

Kristoff's right beside her and Sven's already passed out at their feet. "Yeah," Kristoff answers hollowly. "Dude was clearly insane."

Anna stretches her arms over her head. "Thanks for your help today, it was greatly appreciated."

"Yeah," he nods after a moment, reluctantly hauling himself up. "Do you want to come over for some hot chocolate? I think it's my turn to make it."

"Hmm," Anna considers before nodding. "That sounds really good, actually." She reaches for Kristoff's hand when he extends it to her, wincing at her sore shoulder muscles. Her mouth turns downwards when she takes in how truly messy the two of them are.

The snow has made everything extra muddy and the spider blood is a thick, stinking blue. Anna's shoes are covered in the gunk, and generous smears of mud stain her jeans and jacket. Kristoff isn't any better—his beanie has soggy leaves pasted on one side of it, and both mud and spider blood coat him from fingertips to elbows, making him look like a child who went crazy with finger-paint.

(One reason Anna prefers her bow and arrow to close ranged weapons—less mess. While Kristoff is excellent at throwing his ice axes, he works best when they stay in his hands. The tradeoff of having to scavenge around for her arrows after a job is well worth it, in her opinion.)

"We should probably hit the camp showers before splitting up," Anna says weakly. "I don't want to go through your apartment complex looking like a murder scene."

Kristoff takes off his beanie and frowns at it. The newly uncovered hair is sweaty and sticks up every which way. "Sure. I have some extra clothes in my car if you need some."

Anna nearly dances in delight at the idea of burrowing herself into one of his large flannel shirts. At this point, she probably has more of his shirts in her closet than he does—it's becoming a problem but if Kristoff knows (which he probably does), he doesn't seem to mind. "That would be awesome," she says happily.

The two of them (plus a sleepy Sven) make their way to their cars and drive to the closest campsite. Anna has an encyclopedic knowledge of where all the outdoor showers in the forest are since she has to use them so often. The shower spray is predictably icy but Kristoff lives up to his offer; soon she's wearing a baggy blue and gray flannel shirt under her leather jacket and a clean pair of jeans she found in her trunk. She was successful in getting most of the muck off her boots and pulls them back on, ignoring the feel of the cold and wet material against her feet.

Right before she's about to leave the parking lot, Kristoff runs over and taps on her window. Wondering what he wants, Anna rolls it down.

"I almost forgot—you did Weselton's paper, right?" Kristoff asks. "I know we've both been busy with hunting over the break but today is the last day before we go back to school."

Anna feels the blood drain out of her face. "P-paper?" Shit, she'd rather deal with another monster than write a paper at the last minute. How had she not remembered to do it?

Kristoff nods and gives her a sympathetic look. "Yeah. The prompt's online and it only has to be eight or so pages. You should be able to get it done in no time." They both know that's not true—Anna's horribly slow at writing papers even when she's familiar with the topic.

She feels a light pressure on her head and realizes Kristoff is giving her an encouraging pat with a gloved hand. "You can use my computer and stay over tonight if you want," he offers. "That way we can head to class together in the morning."

"I knew there was a reason you were my best friend," Anna grins up at him. Seriously, he's way more thoughtful than he would like to admit.

Kristoff pretends to act like the remark doesn't affect him but Anna can see him fighting off a smile. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you in a little bit, okay?"

He heads back to his car and Anna follows him out of the parking lot, halfheartedly wishing she could relocate to a warmer place when her heater struggles to come on. Hunting has never been a glamorous occupation and it was definitely not for the faint of heart. Hunters had messy jobs and lived messy lives. Those jobs were made even messier in the winter, where snow and ice and cold made for more dangerous work.

In the warmer months after a job in the forest, she would have been walking through one of the small streams barefoot, her shoes hanging off the back of her neck by the laces. She'd be wearing a tank top and capris, and the camp showers would be refreshing instead of freezing. The windows of her car would be rolled down and she'd be blasting some songs she could belt along with.

Unfortunately for her, Arendelle is too far up north for summer to really stick around. Only about two months a year were warm enough to forgo sweaters; the rest shifted between moderately chilly to downright freezing.

Her heater breaks her out of her reverie when it begins to sputter feebly against the temperature. She gives it a soothing pat. "You and me both, buddy."

Anna wakes early the next morning in Kristoff's bed, Sven nosing against her face. She blinks sleepily and lightly swats the eager dog away. "No," she groans, burying her head under the pillow. "I don't wanna go to class."

Last night had been all frenzied typing, encouraging words from Kristoff, and the occasional hair-pulling moment of stress. Papers were her worst enemy, especially when they were on vague political theories from long-dead geniuses. For the millionth time, she's glad her major is mostly readings and field work.

Sven, who has apparently made it his mission to get her out of bed, starts to tug down the blankets with his teeth. The end result is Anna curled up in the fetal position as cool apartment air comes over her body.

"I hate you," she mumbles towards Sven. In response, the dog presses into her side, sharing some of his body heat, before bounding out of the room.

Anna slowly sits up and stretches. After changing back into Kristoff's flannel shirt and her clean pants from yesterday, she heads out into his main room. Kristoff's still laying down on the couch in front of the tv, sprawled out under a few blankets. His arms are folded underneath his head and he seems to be peering up at the ceiling in thought.

Anna clears her throat, wondering if she's interrupting some deep musings of his. "Do you want me to make breakfast? We have plenty of time before class."

"Oh," he blinks slowly and his pale eyes focus on her. "Sure. You know where everything is."

He eventually gets up as well, drawn to the kitchen by the smell of bacon. He feeds Sven some of his leftover eggs before going into his room and changing for class.

As Anna is drying the dishes, she can't help but smile at the easy familiarity of it all. She and Kristoff have known each other for more than ten years now, have grown from snot-nosed brats into young adults together. Their closeness is often seen as romantic, a notion both have gotten tired of correcting. They were more along the lines of siblings, fiercely protective of one another while also capable of anticipating each other's needs—something that helps them greatly whenever they hunt together.

Kristoff comes out of his room a few minutes later, fitting his freshly-laundered beanie over his hair. "Ready to go?"

"No," Anna sighs, packing away the pencil and notebook Kristoff had lent her for the day. She heads out ahead of him, hoping she can find a parking spot that isn't too terribly far from her classes.

Thirty minutes later, she skids to a stop outside of her lecture hall (quite literally as there is ice beneath her shoes), catching herself against her friend's broad shoulders. "Hey there, buddy," she says casually.

Kristoff turns around, an eyebrow already raised. "How did I end up getting here before you? And you're cutting it a bit close; you know Weselton will freak if you're late." Due to their sometimes hectic hunting schedules, both of them knew firsthand exactly how dickish their International Relations professor got if someone showed up late. One boy, a star player on the school's football team, had actually broken down in tears under the man's embarrassing, intensely personal scrutiny.

Anna gives an exaggerated shiver, recalling the first time Weselton had yelled at her. "You don't have to remind me." She holds up the cup of coffee that's scorching her fingertips through its cardboard holder. "But I figured grabbing some caffeine was worth the risk."

The two continue their chitchat while waiting for the professor to open the doors and save them from imminent frostbite. Despite absolutely despising their teacher, Anna's glad she and Kristoff have a class together. It gives them time to socialize in a monster-free setting and pretend they're just two completely normal students.

The doors open exactly three minutes before class and everyone rushes in past Weselton, who's already tutting impatiently at his students.

"I swear he'd be written up so many times by now if he wasn't tenured," Kristoff mutters under his breath as the two settle into the corner of the back row, Anna snagging the aisle seat. "Guy's a complete ass."

"Yeah, but he's an ass who can fail us. Thank god we're halfway through this awful class. For next semester, I'll be the one who picks the elective," Anna responds in an equally quiet voice.

Weselton struggles to close the hall's massive doors, something that's always amusing for his students to watch. Huffing and red in the face, he struts down to the front of the room and turns on the projector, intent on starting up the same lecture from before fall break.

"Using Corona as our case study, we will continue to investigate the state's regime change from a monarchy to the modern democracy it is today," Weselton begins in his oddly-high voice. "Beginning as early as 1560—"

The class' doors open again with an ominous creak and the students hold their breath in anticipation of a verbal beat down. Anna and Kristoff both turn to see who opened the door as well, having the closest seats to the show.

It's a girl, one who seems vaguely familiar to Anna. She has long, platinum hair that seems too fine to tangle, pulled into a loose braid over her shoulder. The pale skin of her face is flushed from the sudden attention of the whole class, and Anna is close enough to see a few light freckles dusting her sharp cheekbones. Her ripped and faded jeans lead directly into a pair of ankle high motorcycle boots. A form fitting tee is visible under her unbuttoned, dark gray peacoat.

"Well, well, well," comes the snide voice of the professor. The girl tenses in response, knowing what's about to happen. "Did you just think you could stroll into my class, late, because it's the first day back to school?"

"No," the girl says quickly, defensively. "I couldn't find my—"

"Do you think I want to hear your excuses?" Weselton asks, glee apparent in his face. He pushes up his glasses and continues on, "Why would you even come here if you knew you were going to be late? Do you know how disrespectful that is? How insulting to not just me, but to your fellow classmates?"

Anna personally feels that it's more disrespectful of him to eat away his class time like this. From the way Kristoff's shifting agitatedly next to her, she can tell that he agrees.

Weselton stays rooted to his lectern, preferring to let his voice carry across the room. "Maybe you should apologize to the class for wasting their precious time. Would you like that, class?"

Everyone stays silent, unanimously deciding to stand against their professor. Weselton frowns, not expecting this response. He snaps his eyes back to his target, who is still right next to Anna. "Well, I think you should apologize," he sniffs.

Anna can practically feel the mortification rolling off of the girl and sees her ball her hands into fists. Her mouth twists unhappily and she seems to be fighting with herself to give Weselton what he wants.

"I...apologize," the girl finally forces out, looking like she's one second away from hitting the professor. Her hands are still balled and seem to be shaking with anger and embarrassment.

Weselton nods, satisfied that he's had yet another student bend to his will. "Very good. Now, where was I…"

Anna glances up at the girl, wishing she could've said something to get her off the hook. Feeling someone's gaze on her, the girl turns to Anna, eyes narrowing before she realizes who she's looking at. Her reaction changes completely when the two of them lock eyes—a pink flush rises on her cheeks and her blue eyes become impossibly wide. She quickly walks down the main aisle and picks a seat far from Anna, head turning only slightly towards the back of the room as if contemplating stealing another peek at her. Apparently thinking better of it, she turns her attention to Weselton.

Kristoff starts scribbling on her notebook and taps Anna's knee to get her attention. What the hell was that about? is scrawled in the margin of her paper.

Anna takes ahold of the notebook and tilts it out of his sight. She gets busy writing what looks to be an elaborate response, taking up nearly half of the class period. Kristoff eventually starts kicking her foot in impatience and she rolls her eyes before flinging the notebook in front of him. After his initial disbelief, his shoulders start to shake with silent laughter.

Anna looks down at the paper and smiles at her work of art—a giant, highly stylized question mark.

Anna gets back to her apartment late in the afternoon, having lost track of time with one of her professors during his office hours. The man, Dr. Mowgli, is an expert in the field of wildlife ecology and Anna had spent the time picking his brain about certain conservation efforts and his personal interests in the jungles of India.

Before they both knew it, his next class was about to start and they were forced to part ways. But the meeting had put her in a great mood; by the time she opens her apartment door, she's whistling a cheery tune.

Her jeans are soon off in favor of a pair of sweatpants she's practically swimming in. The apartment is warmer than she remembers it being yesterday morning, which is awesome. Actually, this seems to be one of those times where everything is awesome—her hunting's been successful, she got her IR paper done, classes went smoothly, and Dr. Mowgli is sure to give her a kick-ass recommendation letter at the end of term.

She puts some pasta on the stovetop and brings her computer out of her room to boot up some catchy pop music—the perfect thing to complement her cooking. She's shaking her hips along to the tunes when she hears a scratching sound against the front door. Muting the volume, she listens a little more carefully, and yep, there's the sound again. This time it's accompanied by a slight jingling.

Eyeing her pasta in suspicion, she turns off the heat and puts the pot on a cooled burner before walking towards the front door and opening it in curiosity.

It takes quite a bit to catch Anna off guard; actually, she considers herself to be nigh-unshakeable. So when she opens the door, she expects to see someone posting a flyer on the wall next to her door or maybe even some loud, drunk underclassman wandering by.

What she doesn't expect is the pretty girl with attitude from Weselton's class to be standing in front of her, a key in her outstretched hand.

"Um," Anna says eloquently.

The girl jerks back, nearly tripping over her own feet in her effort to put some distance between them. Her face is once again flushed and her hand whips down to her side. "I'm sorry. I think I got the wrong address," she says, voice shaking slightly. She looks behind Anna to read the numbers on the door and her eyebrows draw in confusion.

"This is 304," Anna says helpfully. God, this girl is interesting. She rebelled as much as she could against Weselton, looking like she wouldn't mind taking out a hit on him, but now she seems completely flustered.

"I—" the girl still looks confused. "Do you live here?" Her tone is pretty close to 'stunned', which is a little overdramatic in Anna's opinion.

Anna shrugs in response. "Either that or I'm a really laid back burglar." That doesn't seem to calm the girl down any so she adds, "I'm assuming you're my new roommate? I'm Anna," she holds out her hand in greeting.

The girl looks down at it and then at her own hand. "Elsa," she finally says, folding her arms across her chest. "We have a class together."

Okay, is this Elsa purposely being rude? Anna steps aside and lets the girl pass her, something dangerously close to a smirk on her lips when she replies, "Yes, I remember." There is just enough sass in the three words meant to make Elsa wonder what exactly Anna remembers—her as a normal classmate, or her getting yelled at this morning.

Elsa comes to a stop inside the small hallway and Anna can make out the tip of a pink ear. She suddenly feels bad; maybe the girl wasn't rude, just shy. Way to make a bitchy first impression, Anna.

So she clears her throat and tries for a more civil tone. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you move in, some work-related stuff got in the way and I didn't get back until late." The words are honest and she hopes Elsa realizes that.

Anna brushes past her to renew her cooking, putting her pasta back on the burner and preparing a can of tomato sauce. Straining her ears, she hears Elsa take off her shoes before the girl comes out to the main space of the apartment and sits on the sunken-in couch.

Anna can feel Elsa's eyes on her back but carries on as if she doesn't notice. This whole thing feels so awkward. Even after her pasta's drained and her sauce is poured over it (along with a staggering amount of parmesan), Elsa still hasn't moved or said a word.

"So…" Anna starts, sitting down at a kitchen chair that faces Elsa. "Weselton's an ass, isn't he?"

The remark startles a small smile out of Elsa. The look throws Anna off for a moment; even if it's tiny, the smile makes Elsa look even prettier than she already is. "One could say that," Elsa answers diplomatically.

Anna snorts. "Sure. One could say many things about that tiny man. Are you a polisci major?"

"No, biology. I want to get a PhD in genetics," Elsa responds automatically, like most college students do when asked that question.

"How very Professor X of you," Anna says, impressed despite herself. "I'm in wildlife conservation." The major is one the Guild approved of and paid for. Along with a few other academic specialties, wildlife conservation is an area the Guild wants to have more of their people in, hoping they would help continue shielding humans from the supernatural world.

While it's great that they cover her tuition, they don't cover living expenses and the pay they give for hunting is laughably little. Which is why Anna is now talking to a new roommate instead of lounging around the apartment by herself. However, the overtime she pulled during fall break did allow her to spend money on this spaghetti rather than instant ramen, so at least she has that going for her.

"What made you move during the middle of the semester? Roommate trouble?" Anna hazards a guess. Elsa seems to float between 'needlessly rude' and 'strangely shy', something that perhaps caused tension at her last place.

"In a way," Elsa says eventually, casting her gaze downwards. Her teeth sink into her lower lip and Anna feels goosebumps pop up on her arms. She shivers, rubbing warmth into herself before going back to her pasta. The motions catch Elsa's attention and her head snaps up to stare at Anna.

She stands abruptly. "I'm going to bed," she announces before striding towards her room without another word. Her door click shuts behind her, leaving a very confused Anna in her wake.

"Umm…good night?" Anna says uncertainly to the empty room. She leans back in her seat, wondering if all roommates were this strange.

By the time she's finished drying the dishes and putting her leftovers in the fridge, she notices that it's once again chilly in the apartment. Before turning off the kitchen light, she takes the time to flip off the thermostat (screw you, 58 degrees).

Her usual bedtime ritual (brush teeth, put healing salve on injuries, pick out clothes for tomorrow) commences. The final step—bundling herself under her comforter like a human burrito—is a work in progress when she gets a text from Kristoff.

-I'm hunting tonight. You're on call till dawn

Anna frowns, her thumbs flying across her screen. I thought it was Meridas turn. What gives?

-Family emergency, something about a bear, I dont know for sure

-Urrgh fine. Be safe. When u get back, I'll have to tell u about my roomie

-Finally met her? Can't wait for deets

-God, youre such a teenage girl sometimes. No one says 'deets'

-Then I guess I'll go kill something to regain my manhood. Later hater

Anna rolls her eyes and turns her phone off. Her pager lies innocently on her nightstand, acting like it totally won't beep at some godforsaken hour.

Before she drifts off to sleep, light from the kitchen filters under her door. Anna groans and the reality that she has a roommate finally sinks in. Before, that just meant one of her rooms was off limits. Now it means she's cohabiting with some strange and pretty classmate she'd never really taken notice of.

It's weird how things worked out sometimes, isn't it?

3:22am

Anna blindly grasps at her beeping pager and squints through the light emitted by the tiny screen.

Lavellan, 2ft, 28.36°, 81.59° reloc if poss

"I hate my life."

A/N: This is a really fun story to write so I hope you enjoyed it! If you have any questions about the universe, feel free to PM me or ask in a review (though a bit more will come to light in later chapters). I've intentionally shied away from exposition about the Guild and other things, but I know some people like to have those gaps filled in.

Glossary-

Ahool (first creature Anna fights)- man-sized bat with the face of a chimp, estimated to have a wingspan of up to 12 feet.

Harpies (Anna calls Cleanup before these can eat the Ahool)- female monsters that are half-woman, half-bird. Feed off the dead.

Arachne (Anna's assignment)- legendary weaver. But for the purpose of this story, an arachne is essentially just a giant spider.

Basilisk (Kristoff's earlier hunt)- large, venomous snake that can kill with a look.

Dingonek (Anna's earlier hunt)- looks like a giant, scaled walrus. Lives in steamy areas.

Lavellan (Anna's last assignment)- usually a benign rodent that lives in rivers, said to be poisonous.