There was something almost religious about holding Alistair's sketchbook in her palms, what was obviously years of the man's work and time spent pouring over the pages. It spoke far more to his trust in her than anything else could have, and though she had given up her Christianity long ago the impact Is no less felt here and now. That reverence reflected in her voice as she argued playfully as to why this particular scenic sketch was different than any other he may have created, even if those others were better or more complete in the artist's opinion. When he finally consented to the fact he skillfully turned her own words against her, but her plush lips still curled upwards in that tell-tale smile before she thanked him. His soft response was paired with his gaze drawing back to her for a moment, reflected in the aquamarine depths of her own no less stormy than the seas before them.

After the moment passed she turned back to that notebook not hiding her eagerness in the least as she thumbed thoughtfully through the pages. Vaguely she is aware of Alistair beside her, slightly surprised as he chooses to recline in the cool sand instead of looking over her shoulder as she delves into possibly the most embodiment of his most personal thoughts and work. The soft rhythm of his breathing barely discernable to her sensitive ears over the crashing waves, but it served as the perfect soundtrack as he allowed her ample time to peruse the varied pieces. Only when her soft question broke the relative silence did he rise and identify the source of the intricate piece. It was obviously something he had spent much time on, every detail captured of the building he had no doubt seen daily for some number of years. It revealed even more about him as he identified the place and then what he had studied while on that storied campus.

Her head bobbed in understanding as he explained the variety of his classes, remembering well the schedule that had been lined up for her as well once upon a time. She wasn't sure she regretted missing out of history and statistics. Naturally he turned his curiosity onto herself in turn and it cast a reflective light on one of the key choices she had made in life that led her to where she was today. Too much story for someone she was just getting to know, and she didn't want to cast a shadow on the conversation she was rather enjoying. Her reply glossing over much left unsaid, and yet though she sensed the question in his eyes she was quickly distracted by the quiet laugh that left him instead. His playful jibe was echoed by her own melodic laughter, that rivalry something she was very familiar with having once made the same joke to one of her school friends who intended on going to Yale herself. "Or very nearly, Alistair. Perhaps it was a good thing I didn't go." Her hazel eyes lifted to the dark clouds that tumbled in the sky as if in reflection of the waves below as the other multitude of things that might divide the pair flashed across her mind.

The wind grabbed at her hair ceaselessly as she tucked another errant wavy strand behind her ear once more, looking back at the softly chiseled features of the hunter who sat so easily by her side. "Do you like being a hunter? It seems like a big jump for a law/art major." To be honest she didn't know any other hunters, as a rule she had been taught not to trust them as so many found her kind abominations or worse, and yet the dark haired man beside her had given her no such reason to distrust him. Even if that was his plan he now knew where she lived and he would have every opportunity to do her harm if he wished it, but it didn't even concern her. She had a gift for reading people, to sense their intention when she was near them, and it had only grown upon her return to the city. There was no doubt in her mind that Alistair meant her no harm, at least for now, and that meant the world to her. She had experience enough hurt for one lifetime.