Even in the darkness her eyes didn’t falter to linger on him, though it wasn’t all that difficult, the white coat he carried painted a rather dazzling picture against the black backdrop. He was tall and, well, taller than the sojourning banshee, but only by a few inches surely. On top of this he looked a little gaunt, but Ghost couldn’t tell if he was genuinely malnourished or whether it was a trick of the night. Then he turned, only a slight movement, a flick of his head to regard the creature behind him, yet for now, he says nothing. Ghost frowned, a thin line weaving onto her black lips as she regarded him through her dark eyes, ruffling her wings as she did so to illustrate a little of her discontent. Perhaps it was her own fault for sneaking up behind him that she had earned herself nothing but what looked like a disinterested flick of his head. A few seconds later she fell completely still and watched his small movements with a calculating glance, her lips still set in the same grim line as Fantôme wondered under her belly to stand between her forelegs, a long pink tongue lazily fell out one side of his mouth and, he too, regarded the stranger in front.

It was then, after her playful question, that he turned properly and Ghost almost had to look twice to note the horn upon his brow. It appeared to have given up mid-formation and now sat upon his brow looking more like a bent dagger than a long sword; it was cute, in a way.

Even though they were now stood in front of one another the silence still fell as the stranger looked up to the stars, leaving Ghost to shuffle her feet rather awkwardly as she tried to search for what he might be looking for in the vast night sky. Maybe he wasn't looking for anything at all, maybe it was a hint that he didn’t quite want to be disturbed and the banshee was intruding on what felt like a private moment. “Maybe he is the ghost” Fantôme’s voice suddenly appearing in her mind made her jump and she flashed a disapproving glance at him before sighing and regarding the stallion again.

Maybe.

Yet, the heavy silence is finally broken as her eyes move to the sound of his voice, seeking his masked expression. Ghost’s own face changes to one of surprise and then thoughtfulness. She mimics the way he shifts his head and her dark gaze questions his answer “oh… Do you know me?” she asks, the faintest of smiles gracing her lips. As far as the spy knew, she was the only ghost to be alive, a rather contradiction of terms, it was the nature of ghosts to be dead after all.

“I do not think I know you” she mulled, flicking through her memory of faces she had met in the past.