"I haven't," Lenore confirms, glancing back with concern about the strange opponents. She doesn't love the word 'hunting', coming from a Belmont, but better the black-veined beings than her.

She keeps her distance as they start moving, but alights upon the earth to walk and easily keeps a quick pace. Even though her stride is shorter, she moves swiftly and doesn't tire easily. "Though I confess that most of my interests run toward history, drama, and poetry, not ... well. Belmont stuff. Magical and murderous beings of the night who like tearing people apart. History wise, it rings no bells."

Her eyes linger on him for a moment, making certain of her assessment. "I'm Lenore, by the way. Formerly of Carmilla's court, before the trouble with the human forgemasters and their army of horrors. Are you really a Belmont? I didn't think there were any left."