Ravensblood Forest hippity-hop, all the way to the birdie boiler

Her response was as mundane as his question. And as the wad of phlegm hit the snow, Anselm glanced side-eyed at it, but was bored by the time it vanished among the snow. As he turned, ready to depart from this brief meeting, he heard a crackling in the boughs and his interest was brought skyward - or at least to the level of the low branches, where he watched a small figure perch itself.

Anselm's face drifted briefly in to a worried expression (or at least became slightly confounded); but the arrival of the bird did not dissuade him from leaving. If anything, the pest's subtle lurking made him less inclined to stick around. So he turned and headed through the forest once more - idly listening to the slender woman, in case she chose to follow (or in case she meant him ill, but, he doubted the spindly creature could do him any real harm).