They had been out all night, searching the reeking streets of the theatre district for demons in the night. They parted their separate ways- but not before Pasque had arranged another meeting- and lectured a good deal on staying together, dangerous times, etc. etc. Avril had to adjust to their time now- it was the only way to hunt a predator without waking up with a slit throat. Trudging up to her little shop and home, she wearily arrived at the door. There was a large, heavy package waiting for her- on order of roses for the store, it said. Landlord's scarf. Huh. The old gentleman often made his rounds very early in the morning- good business, he said. Early bird catches the worm, he said. She would have to return it to him later. Avril turned the knob and entered in to the little house. She set the large, plain cardboard box onto the kitchen counter. She grabbed a pair of scissors and cut open the tape sealing it, and pulled back the box flaps. Strange flowers. Very strange. She had never seen roses like these before- white as moonshine in spots and a deep, vibrant red in others. It flowed in splotches and specks like a painting, in patterns that seemed so natural and at the same time so...intentional. Somebody hadn't taken particular care of them. They had been sealed in that box, with no air holes, no water, and they had a faint aroma that hinted they were also beginning to rot in there. She went and fetched a couple green glass vases and filled them with water- mixing in some plant preservatives and placing them on the counter with the box. She pulled out the flowers, and peered in to the box, careful to make sure she hadn't missed anything.

The flowers fell to the ground.

It wasn't long before she joined them.