What a way to ruin things.

Empty tennis court at the edge of a fairly thick forest, the city having a reputation of predators wandering in the thick of said forest, lone person sitting at said tennis court - the perfect recipe for his dinner. All ruined by said person crying.

Demetri hates it when his prey cry - when they cry as they die is something he's accustomed himself to, but finding them crying? Nope. Not at all ideal.

She's sitting there, body wracked by sobs as she furiously paws at her eyes with sweatshirt-clad fists. He can hear the raspy rattle of her vocal cords as she heaves up another sob, the sound dying abruptly even though the pawing doesn't stop. Stifling the sound so that no one hears even when you came here to cry with the sole purpose of not being noticed - the self-loathing this person has practically walks itself to him in that one action.

He makes his way through the sides, keeping care to avoid her line of sight as he lowers himself next to her on the ground, leaning his head on the chain-link fence and drawing his knees close to his chest. She raises her head, red rimmed eyes warily sizing him up. Must be in mid twenties at most, eighteen at the least. "Sorry," she mutters, voice hoarse.

"Happens to the best of us," he offers. There's only animals in the vicinity, he's thirsty, and the nearest viable place to eat would be downtown where there's enough drunks to not be missed, so he decides to brave through the next few minutes to quench his thirst without much effort. "Boyfriend dumped you?" That's usually the cause with these age ones.

She shakes head, following the action with dry laughter. "God, no - nothing like that. I don't think I have ever been that attached to cry over them."

"School trouble?" He ventures. That causes her face to darken, all traces of laughter gone.

"My scholarship's not that hard to keep, I mean, people get 4.0's every year and yet here I am struggling -" Oh gods, a rambler. "Sorry - you don't need to hear about the sad excuse of a grad student that I am."

"Well, I did ask." He needs to just get her out of her distress to strike, and he'll be good.

"It's a competitive scholarship, and it pays very well, which it makes it possible for my parents to be able to pay for my brother's pre-law and law until he gets one. We're not exactly poor, but we aren't loaded, so it's that shitty middle where we're rich enough for FAFSA to be super stingy with the aid, but not rich enough to not have to worry about that crap. I have a GSI position that pays too, but my mental health is in shambles and I need to pay a decent amount every month just to keep myself from spiraling into the void of depression." She stops, suddenly breaking into quiet laughter.

"I've told you more than anyone else in my family knows, and you're like the second person in the whole wide world to not actually roll their eyes or sigh with boredom as I rattle off my sob story which isn't half as bad as other people. First was my therapist. Have tried talking to my parents once, but all I got was a toughen-up speech and a quick dismissal, which, let's face it, was expected."

He's lived long enough to see enough pain and misery to last the remainder of his existence, but the woman's seemingly careless attitude as she details what sounds like a rather miserable mental and emotional state tugs at whatever is left of humanity in him. It isn't of humans to treat their lives with such abandon, and her lack of self-respect makes him more sad than disgusted.

"What are you studying?" He finds himself asking, despite his very clear plan not to drag it out.

"Astronomy and engineering - aerospace to be precise for the latter. I love the fields, don't get me wrong, but sometimes it is a little too hard to deal with. Especially when they ask you to write and defend a thesis for them. My life plan is pretty clear - finish grad school, try and get a job at SpaceX or NASA or Boeing, and hopefully live the life I want to."

"That sounds like a pretty good deal." The wind's gotten colder, and she pulls up the hoodie of her sweatshirt and throws it over her head, toying with the cord of her headphones.

"Yeah, which is why the periodic thoughts of wanting to kill myself only make me hate myself more. Like I have it better than my parents did at this age, I have it the way I want, so why the fuck I would want to die should confound any sane human." Depression has existed back in the day when he was born, and it continues to still be a menace amongst the living and dead alike.

"And it has been like this for over ten years - sometimes it was worse, mostly it was better. This is closer to the worse than better, because my shitty thoughts and my inaction is just creating a bigger and bigger mess."

"Well, you survived those years, and you'll survive this too - you don't seem like a quitter." The words just slip off his tongue, and he grits his teeth, groaning inwardly at the lie in the latter.

"Well, you aren't wrong about the first," her tone is a little less hopeless and she sounds like she might actually draw strength from what he just said. Something about that reminds him of him, a younger Demetri in a land much farther than the one he sits on, a Demetri that was much more naive and hopeful than the one now.

And against the dull ache of his throat slowly beginning to overshadow the thinking half of him, he smiles at her. "I know I'm right about the second as well." This time, she properly turns her head to look at him, and he studies the girl's features in the moonlight - beneath the mixture of worry and loathing there is still childlike innocence, and prominent amongst all of those, the fierce set of a survivor's jaw.

"Thank you." The words are whispered, and he's not sure if he was meant to hear them. Her voice is heavy with emotion, giving him some serious second thoughts about using this kid as his meal. This is why you should never actually talk to your prey. But it isn't just that.

This is one of the most meaningful conversations he has had in a while, and somewhere despite the magnitude of differences between the two of them, he has found common ground. The girl in front of him is scrappy, but a fighter - much like him at the start - and he would hate to not see what would become of her. Besides, there's always a lecherous, abusive drunk to reduce from the world; he'll find one of those to satiate himself.

So he turns and trains the full weight of his gaze on her, and leans forward to lend his words as much gravity as he can. "Go straight home, eat something comforting, watch something funny. And get away from here as fast as you can - it's bad to dwell among terrible memories. Leave." Before something bad happens.

She seems to take the unspoken hint and quickly gets on her feet, briskly heading off towards the nearby bus station. He pretends to fiddle on his phone until she is well on her way and out of observable distance, then stands up to find a proper meal for the night.

Lucky for me, it just came walking down the street.

Before his meal can make its way to harass the lone woman at the bus stop, he grabs the inebriated man by the scruff of his neck and pulls him into the forest, making quick work of the actual process. Then, for good measure, Demetri makes his way to a good distance in the forest - not enough for the authorities to suspect foul play, just enough for other natural predators to have their way with it - and mangles the body in a pattern not out of a wolf attack.

And then he leaves.