Hushed Willows whomping willow

First came the scent – scents – intermingled with blood. Spilled from whatever creature that initially drew them to this spot. Then came a voice. They could not parse through what was said exactly, but the chipperness in tone was somewhat of a comfort. Would this stranger be as kind to an unknown soul? 

Two young women finally came into view; one bright as the day, the other more suited for dusk. Gossamer smiled at them and bowed their head in greeting.

Apologies. Am I intruding?