Shadewood get used to it

Her lip curls as the other woman passes her, as though she weren't truly there, "Rude," she accuses loudly, but it seems to fall on deaf ears. The wraith's attention is on Cypher's dark and handsome stranger, and he looks as annoyed as she is. She's not compelled to humor these dramatics, but he's giving the white woman what she wants. As much as Cypher would like to turn on her back on them both, leave them to their imaginations, she's growing curious. Can't help it. 

"Bless your heart," she tells the white creature matter-of-factly, "No such thing as a curse." Not in the way the ghost was meaning, anyway; this landscape was certainly cursed, but that was the way of nature.