Blackfeather Woods the black star

"Glisten, glinsten, little 'shroom," she sang in a whispery voice while she walked past the glowing mushrooms. The ghost felt right at place here, between the glowing serenity of the mushrooms and the dark murky waters that she would not traverse; they were too wet and cold right now, and her fur was thin and whispy as it were so she did not really wish to risk getting wetter and colder than the winter already was.

"Nobody knows 'n you go boo—" Ears perked and a sly smile found its way to her face as her song was cut short by the appearance of another. He stood looking confused in the waters, and the spirit wondered how on earth the broken bird had survived for so long since their last meeting. "Hey, bird." She called out to him as she casually trotted on over.