Alert and alive, much more than she could say for the souls festering around her, she shifts and turns her attention to the oncoming stranger. Sturdy onyx limbs remain planted into the mucky ground, her demeanour unchanging as he halts, cold black eyes watching the sneer snake it's way onto his ugly scarred mug. The evil lips turn words of taunt and condemnation, words she'd heard before, words her own mother had enjoyed calling her. She grimaces, enduring this absurd equine's dribble of attempted torment, yet on another level, she rather enjoys it. For some reason she was a 'mutant' to this ill spoken equine, perhaps just her appearance gets under his skin, and Ghost enjoys the satisfaction. Did he come just to throw insults? Or did he come for more sinister reasons? Her gaze drops to the monochrome collie dog, feeling her skin prickle in fear of those teeth bound to be lining the jaw behind deceiving soft lips, for a moment Ghost shuts her eyes to enjoy the exhilaration before reopening them to concentrate.

However, her turn to retort was not just yet as she is defended by a stranger. A horned mare coated in faded blue and patches of snow, her voice was reprimanding and icy towards the hornless stud before she turned to Ghost and introduced herself as Epona. For the first time surprise wormed it's way onto Ghost's face, insults and torments she could deal with, but for someone to speak out on her side. Never. The belle controls herself, still a frown upon her features, but happily, she did not reject the mare who spoke out in defence of her. Instead she fumbled with finding the right words, the situation now thrown into something totally bizarre for the young girl who had only ever known to rely on herself. "These occurrences are not foreign to me, I know very well, Epona, that there are only a few here that think in such simple ways." She found strength in her voice eventually and smiled sweetly at the dunskin burnt face. Time to move her first pawn in this game of gambling words.

Circuta showed the elegant curve of her white blotched face that came free with snapping words and soothing lines of comfort. Ghost returns the smile and nods her head, but says nothing for a moment; Ghost was already well aware of how splendid she was after all. As her superior offers swamp life to their little guest, the sprite flexes her feathered appendages, admiring how the red clashes with the purest white before silence fell and she found her ghastly voice once again. "Not even the demons of the marsh deserve that face, though should he continue to speak to me as if I am somehow inferior then I perhaps should correct him. We can just severe his head and dump the body."

The coin was flipped, the gamble was set.

Your turn golden boy.