Murder had happened here. The Threshold was light, inviting in comparison to the thick, dark embrace that was offered by this tragic forest. Ghost had wondered many times what these trees had seen, what secrets were held in the gashes that marred some unfortunate timber and in the creepy red-hued water. It was almost like it was created purely for the scenes of horror stories and yet, there was something about it that made the banshee feel sad. Could trees cry? If so, she wondered how many it would shed. The place had become a setting for many interesting conversations in her past, it seemed the most intriguing creatures liked to roam here sometimes and she had found answers that only brought up more questions. It was the place that brought the Asylum to her and the place she had found the fallen King, Mauja. What would she find this time? Her mother? If she was lucky. Ghost hadn’t been given the chance to flaunt her new power in her dam’s face and the Cadaverous was eager for the moment to come.

Instead, she picked up a challenging call that brayed around the woodland and her cloven hooves carried her towards it, sloshing through the melting snow mixed with dead leaves until she was close enough to pick up a scent. Fog hampered her view as she lingered behind trees, edging forward slowly, there was a faint recognition to the creature she was smelling, but the Cadaverous couldn’t quite place it until a few trees later when she came across a familiar, monochrome laced beard.

There were those horns too that grew like he was out of a Faustian legend, strange characters etched into them and they curved to a tip that would be wise to stay away from. Hair and muscle, that’s what he was like to Ghost, a rough-edged animal. She didn’t know him personally, of course, he might enjoy meadow frolics and flower picking, but that didn’t quite match his outfit somehow, even if the thought did tickle a funny nerve.

She dallied, peering around a tree like an overly curious neighbour until finally she decided that her day might become more interesting if she took up the metaphorical gauntlet he had so spectacularly thrown in his bellowing voice. Even the Cadaverous had to admit he was intimidating to look at, but hesitation wasn’t going to win her battles and who knew when a challenger might appear? Best to take the experience where she could and this one was handsome enough to look at. It would be hard, the ground wasn’t great and the fog hampered the bits of light that actually made it through the trees, but the banshee could see well enough. Her wings might not be of great advantage in here either. All this made Ghost grimace at the thought that it might be a messy battle and it took a moment for her to push the apprehension away. What, afraid of a little mud? she grumbled silently to herself.

Biting the bullet, Ghost steeled herself and folded her wings tightly into her sides before moving out from behind the tree quietly as she could. "Torleik, was it?" She uttered his name from that one time in the Threshold before bursting forwards at a brisk canter, not yet daring to open up on the soggy ground and aimed her single dark horn to slash across his right shoulder.

@[Torleik]
[1/3 | 574 Words
Ghost charges and aims her horn for Torleik's right shoulder.
ooc: Sorry for the wait Red!! I'll be damn quicker now the holiday madness has finished. :| ]