Ravensblood Forest journey before destination

The sound of her clashing teeth was like a whip against the air. The pale knight turned to her sharply, ears erect, and regarded her with a curious glint in the pale color of his eyes. There was not a reflection of fear upon his face because he was unafraid of her. Guildenstern had learned many things in his life; the idea of allowing fear to rule him, or bind him, was positively foolish. The rate at which she approached him was enough to warrant a modicum of concern. If he were to remain for even a second longer, her aim would be true, and she would surely slam against him. The thought had passed through his mind far too late, for when the specter of a woman burst toward him, it was with feverish intent to do harm. The lightness of her steps was a marvel in itself. The knight did not remain for long to watch her dance madly his way.
 
Like a pale looming reaper, he dove in a swinging motion. It was a move that allowed him to circle his body and keep her in his line of sight. Were it not for the scars that marred her figure and the slimness of her frame, she could have been a sibling to him. This thought brought Rosencrantz to his mind – flashing in and then fading out again without any real purpose. Something about her seemed to be completely overtaken with grief. Guildenstern wondered how heavy it was for her to carry, and if it had caused the lunacy to take hold of her vision. What was it that plagued this marred banshee? The question would likely never be asked of her, but it rang through his skull like a blasted bell from a tower.
 
“I do not fear you, woman. Settle your spirits before I force you back.”
 
The words were direct and rough sounding from the beast’s throat. The baritone struck the air and seemed to linger there. It was as though the echoes of a distant thunder existed behind the intense features of his face. Guildenstern did not wish to frighten his woman away, but he was not interested in having her draw any closer to him. There were too many questions that had not yet been answered. The knight would not risk any harm to himself without a just cause. A sickness in her mind did not seem to be an appropriate use of his talents. Aside from this, the pale mercenary had oftentimes found himself caught off guard by those who fought with raw anger, and those who did not seem to have anything left to lose.