Haunted Wood Way down we go.

he does nothing; only rearranges himself on the floor of the pit, silent save for the low sound that comes as he shifts. she slips back to the edge, watching. more stones line the rim of the pit, but they don't tempt her as the first had. instead, she stands, poking a paw at the loose earth at the very edge of the sharp decline.

"who are you?" gimlet stare seeks his, not understanding the concept of his place, rank here and yet wanting too. it brings to mind something scylla'd said, something about the history of blackfeather.