Ravensblood Forest that is my cry

Ravensblood Forest had provided the backdrop to many a strange experience. Among these trees, Bazi had faced drunken vikings and voiceless foreigners within the space of a few months, and the forest kept on giving. She tensed when Lasher stirred, one foreleg cocked in anticipation of flight, but he made no move to chase her off. Instead, he said something about spirits - and hell. Was this another victim of fermented fruit, or a natural born lunatic?

Bazi took a tentative step forward, meeting the strangers nervous look with a curious gaze. It was too dark to pick out his exact colour or build; she knew him to be male, and there was a hint of an accent. Drunk or strange, the ghostly girl decided to play along.

"But ordeal is part of the experience," she whispered impishly, creeping towards him like a cat on the prowl.