As much as you know about them. Where they’re been found, who distributes them, what they look like—

[A glance up from the notepad.] Oh, and: What’s your name?

[The pen stops mid-scrawl.]

Elena.

[Caitlyn pulls her hood down. If Elena’s seen her face before, it might be more recognizable now, bright blue eyes no longer in shadow. And widened, for a moment, too.]

I— How often do you come here? [Less interrogative, more ‘what are you doing at the midnight sacrament?!’]

Well, can’t say I have before tonight. [She flips back through the notepad, several pages earlier—then turns it to show Elena.

[Behold—in rough pencil sketch form.]

I received a tip that an item like this was spotted in the area. Item, singular. [The paper lowers.] What you describe—is it anything like this.