A small, two bedroom apartment with simple furniture. It's warm and homy with a modern kitchen. The walls are brown and wooden like most buildings in Russia and have landscape portraits tooken by Dimitri on them. Thick Blankets cover the windows to keep out any of the sunlight.

Dimitri peered past the blanket and out the window, using his large hand to remove the frost that has gathered and shielded his vision. The only light outside was proided by the moon and a dim street light, but there was no sign of Akira. She should have been back by now, she should have huried.

His veins turned cold when the idea of a hunter stuck his mind, no, Akira was too smart to get caught, to get killed.

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