Firefly Glen phantom stranger

ooc; late night. windy weather. all welcome. hunt is just wanderin' and new here

a voice cut through the air. unknown in origin and unknown in purpose. daresay, what sort of question was that? pale gaze shifted to the other woman, recalling tales of late night campfires-revolving stories of headless or floating heads. such idiotic tellings at the core. her eyes did not blink. she did not move from her spot, even. she merely existed as she was. a floating head, indeed. "if I was, you have cause to worry, hm?" she echoed in her quiet tone, focusing entirely on the other person. "yet, disappointing as that is, I am not."

how disappointing indeed. there was some base desire to scare others. yet that was what it was; a desire was a fleeting thing. Huntington moved sharply, deliberately, to walk forward. she kept distance between them, pausing a few paces away. the woman, mundane in features. the first person she had met here... how lacking in amusement. she pulled her gaze from her frame to look about them. still under the safety of the foliage, yet also exposed to others.

"I am called Huntington" she decided to introduce herself, however strange the situation happened to be. her deadpan expression returned to the woman, a thin smile creeping upon her features. "and what do they call you, my dear?"