Blackfoot Forest toil and trouble

"I think you're full of shit."

Ramona chortled gaily at that, but it stumbled into a dry, hacking cough. A number of sleek little bodies crept towards her, concerned that their ramshackle matriarch might just collapse into a bag of bones and blood. She shooed them away with a short hiss, beckoning Fox toward the stagnant pool with a thin, shriveled twig of a leg.

"All day, pretty-thing! All day, all night! You are a young one, aren't you." Either someone had told her, or the old with was guessing. "Come - come! Look into the tea, and tell me whose face you see."