The Deep Forest, it was an old haunt and a favourite hideout. However, there was something about looking at an old picture and seeing something new in it. Something that had never been seen there before even though her eyes had glazed across it countless times; a new perspective as life handed down another experience and another memory that wouldn’t be buried quickly. The scars on the trees felt a little more personal, a little more like she had some sort of attachment to a place that had been here much longer than she had, a thought that those marks might hurt. Perhaps this was where wisdom came from. Who knew, did it matter now anyway? Though Ghost wondered if like this forest, she would just become a scar on the earth and nothing more. At the mere age of four she hoped that this wasn’t her pinnacle, that a crown didn’t signify ones greatness, but perhaps it was something else. For when the young banshee had held that title she felt many things, but not one of them was great and was greatness even worth having? More questions. After a battle you’d think the clearing dust might have enlightened her a little, but all she was left with was questions for herself.

Family. She had little sense of family though she had once called the rag tag bunch who had followed her this, without even knowing its meaning. Seiren’s definition of family had been hate, but for others it meant love. A long sigh passed her lips and she looked forlornly at Fantôme "it doesn’t matter does it, I’m still alone" she stated, with quite a matter of fact tone. The wolf stared back defiantly and, actually, quite offended. The banshee conceded with a short laugh "no, I’m not alone anymore am I... Let’s travel for a while, hm?" As the question lifted from her lips the young wolf happily bounded off in front. There was no point in regret when the next chapter was a flick of a page away.

It was Orangemoon, the forest had that familiar crunch to it underfoot as leaves fell from their branches. Ghost made her way steadily through the woodland without really knowing where she was going. It almost felt like the old days where she wondered from place to place until she happened across word of the Asylum that, in the end, had brought her back to this exact same point in her life. Still, it was the most adventure she had ever had, perhaps travelling around again would bring her a new direction. For now she enjoyed the scenery of the shrouded woodland, it could be a creepy place, but it was also quite beautiful.

Her travels bring her further into the forest until she comes across the old fir and the red tinged pool. The banshee fell to a halt underneath the ancient tree and rested a back foot. Her injuries were healing and the pink mare Resplendence had done a good job of patching her up. Still she was a work in progress and at times the wounds bothered her. The sprite was in no rush anymore, however, there was no herd land to return to or duties to be done. So she took her time healing both body and her fighting spirit.

A tender careful hoof, the parting of leaves beneath it and the feeling of being watched all led to Ghost spotting the deer out of one corner of her eye. She did nothing, deer were as much part of this world as she was, just like the rabbits and the birds. A wild curious creature, but fragile and fleeting it was the true ghost of a forest. In her briefest of glances she hadn’t noted the strange markings or perhaps she might have lingered her gaze there longer in wonder. Instead, she continued resting by the ruby stream, assuming it to be a normal deer of the wild curiously watching her for danger. Even the other she did not notice, though one could hardly blame her, she didn’t know that every little or large movement he made was silent. So when his voice so simply announced his presence in the smallest of greetings Ghost jumped a little and kept her gaze focussed on the ground for a moment. Who was this? She let her heart settle before composing her gaze as she raised it to meet that of the stallion who was in front of her. For a second, she frowned. His golden expanse struck her as familiar and her memory replayed the moment of when Archibald had attacked her at the start of the damning battle. Was he the one who looked like Midas? Or was that magic meant to trick and he never looked like Midas at all? Her head began to hurt and she pushed it away. Did it matter? The Gallant was gone and with him everything else.

Fantôme eyed the horse and then turned hungrily to the deer that had walked into the open to present himself before the eager wolf. Ghost shook her head "leave" she uttered to him, not entirely convinced he’d be able to take it on anyway. Fantôme sulked as he began to lie down next to her inky front leg, shoving his head to rest on his paws as a long sigh went up from his stomach and out of his nose.

Meanwhile, Ghost’s intrigued meddlesome and rather dark eyes roved over the impala horned’s swank appearance and glittered over his items. A cloak like his aureate body, a necklace shaped into a hawk and a satchel that was either empty or hid other marvels. Lastly, she glanced upon his circlet and thought it added a feminine edge to him, not that she should judge, but it amused her for a moment. "Who is the golden greeter who creeps up on young innocent girls in a dark forest?" Her breathy voice rolls off her tongue in amusement as she plays with her words to seek his identity. Slowly, she puts weight back onto the foot she had been resting and properly stood before the leaf marked stray whilst waiting for an answer.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as if she had just remembered something forgotten only recently. "Greetings" she replied suddenly. How rude it was of her to not return his salute of hello and… in the end, it was just like that; she slipped back into her old self that consisted of intrusive pondering and a long time murderer of social norm.