"Excuse-moi..." A soft French voice breaks through the clatter of the cafe. Hunter turns to see a young woman with wavy chestnut hair, a camera slung around her neck, hunched over a paper map. He frowns, sizing her up. Early 30s, judging by the fine lines just beginning to appear at the corners of her eyes. Definitely not a local, with her pressed linen dress and designer sandals. Probably one of those traveling VIPs the rich park their kids in for the "authentic" small-town experience. Hunter rolls his eyes. Just what he needs right now. Still, he allows his expression to gentlen, "Yes, I can help. What's the problem?" He asks, pulling out a seat at her table uninvited. The woman startles. "Oh! I am sorry, I thought you were - non, it doesn't matter." She shakes her head. Hunter notices her hands are trembling slightly as she tucks her hair behind her ears. "You are not...professeur...professional man?" "Police, actually," Hunter corrects, shifting in his seat. "What's going on? You look shook up." "Ugh, I...it is just, this town..." She gestures vaguely. Hunter sees her eyes darting around the cozy cafe, as if expecting a threat to sweep in. He leans forward, lowering his voice. "Listen, I'm investigating some incidents in town. If you know something, now is the time to say it." The woman inhales sharply. In rapid French, "J'ai vu des choses étranges ces derniers temps. Des exprimences forstesunanimes! Je ne peux pas en dire plus, ils diraient que je suis fou." Hunter arches an eyebrow. "I wish I could help you but I have no idea what you're saying. You'll have to translate for me." The frightened young woman's eyes widen. "You don't speak French?" Hunter scowls. "Madame, I am not here to play cops and robbers. If you want to speak to me, use English. Otherwise..." he stands up from the table, shrugging his broad shoulders. "Wait! Non! Please..." Her hand grabs his wrist, nails digging in desperately. "Look, I am Marie. Je suis étudiante étrangère. I am here to look at your beautiful...how you say? Lieu? I am fascinated by it." She pauses, swallowing hard. "I have seen things these days. Pushy things. Je ne peux pas dire plus. I'm so sorry." She releases him, folding her hands together tightly. Hunter frowns. This girl was clearly rattled, no question about that. Delusions of grandeur at the least, outright insanity at worst. One thing was for certain - a frightened tourist wasn't going to be much help in tracking down the missing people of Alborn. Just then, Hunter's phone buzzes. He glances at it, frowning. Another tip had come in. He stood, brushing the girl's hands away. "I appreciate you coming forward, Marie, I really do, but I'm going to have to head out. Here, let me give you my card." He scribbles a number on the marker board menu. "If you think of anything else, anything at all, feel free to call me." Hunter turns to leave. "Oh, and welcome to Alborn. Watch yourself, 'kay?" Marie sets down the camera with a clunk. The darkscreen saves it from shattering on the harsh tile floor. Her shoulders slump, eyes trailing Hunter's retreating form. She needs to get out of this place. Fast. But then she remembers her duty to the program, to her semblable students... No. She will not abandon this town, not when its desperate cries have called out to her. Not until the answer is discovered, whatever it may be. Sitting up straighter, Marie absently fiddles with the digital camera's settings. Her decision is made. She will stay, and she will keep delving deeper into the mystery of this cursed town, no matter the consequences. No matter the warning, the danger... She's in far over her head now, but Marie is determined to see it through to the end.