Duskfire Glacier quoth the raven, “nevermore”

Müninn was as surprised to hear the voice of another as she would have been if she had seen a polar bear this far south. This place had seemed quite remote — neither she nor her twin had scented any others for miles — and the intrusion immediately irked her. The banshee’s hackles gaze rise and her silverspun gaze tore across the landscape, finding not a polar bear but a small white woman cantering out from the woods. Müninn was not impressed with such a brazen intrusion. The older woman was much too close to them; much too close to Hüginn

“Excuse you?”  The ghost questioned incredulously, spinning on her heels to greet the stranger with a saccharine-stained smile. A slinking step was taken, pushing past the hulking form of her stalwart brother; though her movements were foreward, her demeanor did not speak of her displeasure — Müninn was not one to show her hand so easily. She drew even more forward, the hint of a laugh tingling upon her lips. “Have you done something…. excuse-worthy?”