Serpent Lake My thoughts are often not nasty.

the girl almost does not notice the other perched silently at the bank of the lake and likely would not have, had she not been met with the harrowing feeling of another's company. dazed optics blink against the dim light as the figure of another slowly begins to reveal itself -- their pelt almost melts into the scenery and she briefly wonders if this was how others observed her. it is the pale glint of polished canines that strike out amongst the shadows and instinctively she nears... curious as to it was who lurked alone with such an ominous presence. 

rounding the lakes natural curve, her eyes do not leave the nearing figure as she closes the distance between them. it is almost a hunt, she thinks, as her tall form slaunters forth. but something is off, something strange about the other that irks her as oddly familiar yet unnerving at the same time. it is strange, and scylla halts rather abruptly -- mere feet from the man. 

her critical gaze is unwavering and she finds herself watching him, watching him do nothing but smile at the static lake water flutter gently in the breeze. "what are you doing?" the wraith cannot help but inquire, unable to constrain her interest in within her own head. the travel-safe bundle of herbs rests at her feet.