Ravensblood Forest what are those?

The guy was an amusing sight, he'd give him that, and Noxir let him ramble, ears flicking in vague interest to his spiel about the trees. He hadn't given them much thought beyond the unusual red sap that dripped from their trunks. "Almost seems like they're bleedin', eh? Wonder who cut 'em." The captain half-expected the man to have turned tail already, but what kept him rooted to the forest seemed to be a hilarious mixture of stupidity and fascination. 

Perhaps there was merit to him yet; his crew could do with a good laugh. "What do ye know of pirate life?" his brown quirked at the man's words, neither confirming nor denying his suspicions - wondering only where he'd heard these rumours from. Scary was one way to put it. From a landlubber's point of view, it was natural to fear those of the sea. Cutthroats and sellswords - even the wenches were an acquired taste. But no true pirate feared one of their own.