Sleepy Fox Hollow Trying to transform it

Münnin watched the woman traipse through the hollow as would a sentinel; silently, stoically.  She leant her frame against a stony slab, obscuring any possibility of herself being glimpsed behind its roughhewn crag. Her silvermoon gaze followed the woman’s gait, tracking her every movement, letting her potent attentions steep her mind. It wasn’t often than she came across others, and it was a real shame, because she did so well with others. Hüginn had always said so.

A twist of a smile upon her maw, Münnin grabbed the shank bone at her feet and brandished it as if it were a weapon. The banshee trotted over, intercepted the dark woman in her twilight jaunt, and once again deposited the bone — meticulously cleaned and kept dry — at her feet. “Who goes there?” she asked rather plainly, though she had no real right to this information.