Charles
Lily Brooks was lost. _Shit._ She'd been told in order to get to the eastern roads, you needed to head north until you came across a bridge. Lily had not yet stumbled upon a bridge. What she had stumbled upon was a dense forest paired with a rapidly setting sun. The thief-turned-shine-runner had wanted to walk the path towards the bridge, just to familiarize herself with it properly. She now realized that might have been a slight mistake. They'd been an expert at navigating city streets and alleys, at weaving through crowds and slipping into darkened corners. The map of the neighborhoods she frequented had been etched into her mind, they'd known the streets in and out, and could navigate them almost blindly. This was new, this was different. Lily wasn't used to forests, they didn't know how easy it was for the woods to swallow you up. The sounds the woods made had set her on edge, the revolver she carried on her person was now held firmly in her hand. She didn't know that there were things out here that she ought to be a lot more than just 'on edge' about. The call of a crow made her jump, and she cursed under her breath that a bird got that reaction out of her. "Just retrace your steps Lily..." They mumbled under her breath. She took a few more steps in what they thought was the right direction when the sound of a snapping branch made her head jerk up.

"Who's there?"

Her voice rang out between the trees.

"I'm armed and I'm not afraid to shoot."

They may not be afraid to shoot, but they did feel fear, something about this place felt _wrong._
James
Ruth was not the source of a sudden sound.

But for a moment, she almost believed she was.

It all started earlier in the evening. The afternoon cup of coffee did its job a little too well, and Ruth felt particularly energized. Prone to nightmares, she could not go to bed without being sure she was sufficiently exhausted. Sometimes it entailed a light jog, or maybe even a walk in the woods surrounding her house. And sometimes, - just like today, - Ruth aimed at killing a deer.

Dragging a deer's body to her house, or at least close enough where she could unmistakenly find it the next morning, was a task so draining she risked falling asleep on an old couch in her kitchen, unable to make it to the bed. Either that – or she would run around, keenly following every small noise, until she was tired enough. She was not in dire need of a good-resulting hunt; and generally, deer were never a great part of the Briag Ridge citizens' diet. She just needed something to do.

Ruth threw a sheepskin coat over her shoulders, grabbed Mary from her assigned hook, and drowned in the silk night darkness, like a pebble thrown in the middle of the deep pond.

She followed her instincts, then – the light triangle of a certain someone's tail, until the terrain got too difficult, and Ruth got too heavy and too slow and lost the sight of a light creature. Ruth stopped and brushed damp curly hair from her forehead. A quick look around, - and the abundance of moss on the bottom of the tree trunks hinted at her being in the northern part of the forest. She took a deep breath. Northern woods weren't her domain: there was little food running around and many opportunities to break a leg by falling through an invisible bump or hole. However, she *Has* Been there before. She knew how to navigate by the stars – a little. She would get out in time.

And then, after walking for some time, the ground under her feet gradually flattening out, she heard something again. 

A person. She needed to squint her eyes to make sure, stopped in her tracks, her body immediately taking the hunter's stance without the need for realization. Human. The knob of hair, the rustle of clothes. Quick, shallow breaths. 

The heart got stuck in Ruth's throat. She was dressed in all black, but there was nothing that could mask a movement in the forest from the deep senses of an old hunter. Seeing a person in the woods at night would be a curious circumstance, but in the northern part? Impossible. Impossible, and yet, here they were.

Nobody *Lived* In the northern woods. *Walking* In there was enough of an effort. The only one who tried was Sheriff Guerrero, famous for his hostility to unexpected visitors. Everyone in the Briar Ridge knew what *He* Looked like, and that figure certainly wasn't him.

So, without making as much as a sound, Ruth turned around and followed the figure through the woods.

Ruth was not a thinker, nor she was a considerer. She did not ponder upon what a young supposedly woman could be doing in the woods at this time of night. Nor did she make any theories. She just followed her wherever she went, staying in the shadows, quiet, stopping when she stopped, far away enough that when the person turned her head around, taking her surroundings in, Ruth stayed invisible. For a second, she considered, judging by her movement, the uncertainty and repetitions of their path, that the girl was lost; but quickly refused that idea. Nobody was *Lost* In the northern woods at night. Not dressed like this, and certainly not empty-handed.

Which is why, when the twig snapped, Ruth thought she had been found out.

The girl jerked alert, but their eyes, wide and white in the darkness, looked in a different direction. About sixty degrees from when Ruth was hiding.

Not far enough. From both where she was looking and where the sound happened. And, whatever the girl was searching for in the bowels of the woods dressed like a gothic gentleman, was certainly not a rabbit. And so, Ruth stood completely, utterly still; her hands slowly, very slowly finding their way to their usual grip on her gun.

||
Charles
She should have brought a lantern. The shapes cast by the setting sun and low light of the moon looked ominous. Lily, dressed in all black wearing trousers as she often did on trips that didn't require her to look particularly feminine but did require stealth, could have blended into the night if it hadn't been for her nerves. They'd done it before, tucked themselves neatly into a pocket of darkness right out of sight. They had excellent control and awareness of where her body was, a by-product of her dancing days that normally aided her in placing limbs exactly where she wanted them. 

Right now, she was stumbling, and Lily didn't normally stumble. Lily wasn't supposed to feel fear, she was stronger than fear, fear was for weaklings and she wasn't one of those. They'd escaped from the law, committed countless crimes, and gotten away with them too. But this wasn't New York City, the dangers here were new and unfamiliar. 

"If you think you're being funny, let it be known you're not!" 

They didn't know Ruth had spotted them. They thought someone was out there, some unknown onlooker, sure. But the thought of a hunter trailing her did not cross her mind. Nor did she know that these parts of the woods were not supposed to be hers to traverse. Why anyone else would be out here at the current hour was beyond Lily. She had not expected to run into anyone. Was it another shine runner? Would that mean trouble for her? She didn't have any product on her right now, she could deny involvement at least. This was supposed to be a quick lay-of-the-land type ordeal. It was never supposed to last this long.

"I know you're there, you stomped on a branch, you might as well show your face so we can settle this like grown adults instead of playing hide-and-go-seek!"

Her words may have been confident but her voice wasn't. Hints of fear were slipping between the syllables as she called out into the darkening woods.
James
The person's screams had an effect, as two figures stepped forward from the tree line. And as soon as Ruth was able to catch the barest glimpse of them, her breath got stuck in her throat.

The figures were dressed in an old manner, a man and a woman, all of which Ruth could only assume, because the figures were only a silhouette, a shadow, if a shadow could stand up straight. Everything inside the silhouettes was darkness, darker than the night itself, so dark that no light could touch them. Around them, the milky gleam of the moon just... Stopped.

One of the creatures made a crackling noise again. *They did not step on anything.* The sounds came, as it seemed, from somewhere inside their body, radiating from them like their ominous aura, like a watery splash of ink. They smelled like deep disturbed soil.

Ruth could not move a single muscle. 

There was nothing good in the woods at night. And yet, she wished it was a hungry wolf, a wild boar, or even, - and at that moment she truly believed it, - a Non-Deer. A creature like that could be shot, could be scared off. Ruth could attempt to do that while still staying unnoticed, in the shadows. It would be hard, yes, but doable. 

Yet, this time, the only way to save the woman was to make her keep quiet. This did not allow Ruth invisibility.

Ruth did not know much about ghosts. Yet she did not doubt that shooting them would be the same as trying to shoot the moon. And scaring them? They were too human and knew too well what they wanted to be scared.

It was easy to ignore them, usually: they did not approach if not given attention. She had a proper encounter with a haunt only once: it was a particularly vile-looking creature. She had horrible migraines and dreadful visions all week, which only stopped when she crossed the threshold of the Briar Ridge church. She could not, in good conscience, wish it upon anyone. Could not let the spirits attach themselves to the woman. Follow her into her house. Watch her from under the cracks in the floorboards, from the periphery of her vision, from behind the slightly open doors. Inside of the mirrors. Drive her insane. The ghosts missed the world of the living, their world, and clung to any chance to come back here, any hint. Any accidental look. Any words, screamed at them out of fear, in the dead of night.

 
"Stop!" Ruth called out, despite herself, not moving a muscle outside of her desperate, careless mouth, "Don't look at them!"

||
Charles
There it was again, the sound of a twig breaking, it was closer this time. _Something was coming up behind her._ It was something that didn't care about stealth, that didn't care if it was heard. It was something that didn't _need_ the element of surprise, it knew these woods and its own strength so well that it could afford to approach its prey while loudly proclaiming its presence. Few things scared Lily more than an enemy who knew it had the upper hand to such an extent that it could get away with a slow approach when its cover had already been blown.

Lily could feel eyes on them, a chill ran along their spine and the hair on their arms stood up. Something deep inside her knew that something was horribly wrong, that the eyes staring at her weren't natural.

A voice called out to her, telling them to stop, to not look at whatever _'them'_ was. The voice was too late, Lily had already spun on her heels, revolver arm outstretched, finger on the trigger. Two shapes stood in the moonlight, the only light visible in them was where their eyes should have been. These weren't eyes that _should_ be seeing, these were eyes that weren't alive. Lily shouldn't have looked, they realized their mistake the moment they had made it. The shapes swallowed whatever light there was around them, they weren't just dark, they were the very absence of light. Lily pulled the trigger, and the sound of a bullet fired echoed through the woods. It did **Nothing**. Their bullet embedded itself in a tree behind the shapes. Shapes that had started moving again. Lily stumbled backward.

"S-Stay back!"

Lily turned back to where the voice had called out to her and saw a woman there, armed with a much more fierce-looking firearm. She feared that the rifle would have about as much effect on these _things_ as her bullet had had.

"What the fuck are those things?!"

Her heart was beating so loudly, they were sure the woman would be able to hear it. She'd been afraid of people, or boars, bears, wolves, but she had not known to be afraid of ghosts. Lily didn't believe in ghosts, the Holy Spirit had rejected her, the only power Lily cared about was her own, nothing Higher was out there looking out for her. Ghosts, spirits, angels, demons, they weren't real, they _couldn't_ be real. And yet, these things were undeniably so...

|| whoopsie
James
*She shot them*. Ruth's breath was like a heavy lump of wax in her throat. Of course, they did. Fierce and unbending, demanding their explanations from the whole world, of course, they would shoot the figures. A waste of a good bullet, if you ask Ruth. 

On the other hand, nobody acted smart when they met a ghost.

And then, the person turned on their heels and saw Ruth. Their gaze grabbed onto her immediately, as if she knew what to look for. Undeniably, Ruth's voice matched her looks.

For a long couple of seconds, Ruth stood still under a firm, panicked gaze, strong as a headlight. A stranger's gaze fell on her weapon fist: without fear, but with another emotion Ruth could not decipher. She did not raise her weapon that time. Maybe, she thought that Ruth was also a phantom, a spawn of the forest; that her body would swallow the bullet like the water of a murky lake.

The knowledge vibrated on Ruth's tongue. She could've told the woman everything she knew, reassured her that the phantoms weren't as dangerous, if you kept your head low and led casual conversations, and pretended not to notice them, pretended *Well enough*. She could've admitted that yes, now she got them into a bit of a pickle, but the ghost could always get bored, could always find a better subject, they could always escape the zone of the phantoms' interest. She could try to explain what they were and what they wanted, but she also saw the needy hunger with which the figures reached closer to the woman after her question. *Talk about us. Wonder about us. Be afraid of us.*

Ruth extended her hand to the person, attempting to make her pick a side as quickly as possible. She had no hope of looking friendly or welcoming, here, in between the trees, up to her knees covered in sticky dirt, but she wanted to look like a better option between herself and the ghosts.

"Come here, please. I will gladly explain everything... Later."

Ruth tried her best to keep eye contact with the person, - she remembered that this small gesture usually helped establish trust. But even without looking at the ghostly figures, she could see that they did not enjoy her "Later". As much as the figures savored being menacing, their patience was thinning out.

||
Charles
Hazel eyes shot back over her shoulder again, the shadowy forms had gotten closer. It was either face them or grab the hand of a complete stranger. A well-armed stranger. Neither option felt very pleasant to Lily, but one of them was decidedly less terrifying than the other. What choice did she really have? Whatever those things were, they weren't friendly. All the hairs on her body stood on end when one of them made that sound again, like a branch caught underfoot. Lily briefly wondered if it was wood snapping, or _bone_.

In that moment she felt like the scared child she had once been, roughly grabbed and being yelled at by a nun. A child who was taught that evil spirits did exist, that possession was real, that the Devil could send demons just as the Lord could send angels. _Be not afraid._ Lily was terrified. The God she got to know was an angry God, a God who punished those who had wronged Him, who sent signs to those who had acted against Him. And Lily had done nothing but sin since she left that orphanage. She didn't pray then, God wouldn't safe her, if He could have saved her, He'd have done so years ago. No, it was only one's fellow men that you could count on, even in the face of something decidedly not human. God wouldn't help Lily, not in these woods, why would He?

She lunged forward, grabbing hold of the hand as if it were a lifeline. In a way, it was. Whoever this woman was, chances were that she was less stupid than Lily had been, that she might know a way out of this haunted patch of woods. _Help me, **Please**_ said her hand as she reached for Ruth's. The shapes were only a few feet away from them now. They seemed hungry, as if Lily's fear was feeding something horrid inside them.

"What do we do? I got lost, I don't know where we are or how we get out."

Her voice shook with fear.

Explanations could wait, she just wanted to get away from the haints, that was the only thing that mattered to her. They hadn't been warned about ghosts when she agreed to start running shine, she didn't get paid enough to deal with spirits. There was no payment in the world that would make her willingly do this again. From here on out, if she made it out of these godforsaken woods alive, shine would be transported using an automobile only. Like hell was she going into the woods at night ever again. _Just get me outta here!_
James
The stranger's long fingers grabbed onto Ruth's open palm like it was the last straw over the depth of the swirling river, and for a string of very long seconds, Ruth forgot how to breathe. Something happened in her brain that was akin to a very close, enormous lighting strike, leaving her blinded, with her heart fallen to her feet. 

Ruth could only thank the instinct for making her move. Her feet stepped away from the ghosts, one after the other, her hand tightly grasped the smaller one, and then suddenly she was running, running away from the haunts as fast as her legs could carry her. The pull in her arm tensed up: the woman was evidently not ready for an increase in pace. Ruth could only hope the person would let her know if, - or, more likely, when, - the running would become too much.

An inhuman scream cut through the air, making the grass shake under their feet.

"Look for water," She whispered loudly enough, because she couldn't stop herself from whispering, barely meeting the other's person panicked eyes before averting her gaze, "And don't look back".

With that, Ruth tried to focus on leading the way. She needed to orient herself, and fast, before she accidentally steered them deeper into the woods.

Where could they be? She knew that not so long ago, she was in the northern woods, famous for its countless little rivers, including the big bubbling creak; but the thought of returning there woke up the nagging pain in her worn-out legs. Heading north would, without question, slow them down. Or, they could try to head south, where they would be greeted either by the Powell river, - a death sentence, - or the town, where her house should be the first to jump out at them from the darkness, a save heaven from the creatures of the night. From there, it wouldn't take long to cover the mirrors and light a candle under the small image of Jesus Christ she diligently kept in the corner. The problem was, she had little idea of the direction of the south. The ghosts seemed to be emanating this grainy sort of aura that made it very hard to see; she could barely distinguish the tree trunks to stop her and her unwitting companion from ungracefully bumping into one of them. And the sky suddenly looked exceptionally cloudy: no stars to read the direction, no moon to light up their way.

At times like these, there was only one Ruth could turn to.

"Jesus, Lord and Savior, show me the way," Ruth prayed under her breath, "Lead us to safety, protect us, Lord, save us from the haunts, Amen." Her breath grew short, strained from the running, "Amen".

||
Charles
Ruth's hand became something akin to a lifeline for Lily, who would not be letting go until both of them were somewhere resembling safety, or if they were wrenched from each other before then. The woman pulled her along, Lily hadn't been prepared to start sprinting but her legs quickly caught onto the motion, aligning themselves with the fear in her mind. _Don't look back._ This time, Lily did listen. She fought the instinct to look over her shoulder, to see what had made that terrifying sound, and to see if the spirits were gaining on them. They could almost feel them grabbing hold of her legs, dragging her back, deeper into the pitch-black void that made up their form. She had to look forward, had to keep going. One foot after the other in rapid succession. She could run, she'd been doing so for years. She ran from that orphanage, ran from her past, ran from Ada, ran from countless laws, escaped numerous convictions, and ran from the dead bodies she'd created in her last successful attempt at fleeing. But she had never run quite like how she was now.

The woods seemed darker somehow, like the dim of the ghosts was spreading, tendrils wrapping themselves around what little sources of light remained above them. The moon and stars had hidden themselves behind a blanket of clouds. Lily could hear Ruth pray, and they had half a mind to join her in that familiar prayer. Prayer had never brought Lily comfort, but she was willing to give it another shot if it meant escape from the ghosts that chased them now. They didn't know if it was the Lord who had guided them, or dumb luck but Lily spotted what Ruth had told them to look for, the glint of moonlight reflecting on the surface of water.
_ _

"There!" They called out. "There, water!" Whether it was brook or puddle, Lily did not know, but they started pulling Ruth along with them to that hopeful glittering sight. They kept their eyes trained on its location, veering off to the right. She didn't know what good water was going to do them, but she had to trust this stranger. She was all Lily had. The shimmer disappeared again as another cloud slid to cover the moon, but Lily had locked on to the location. They were so focused on keeping their eyes on it that they completely missed the exposed root, only when her foot got caught in it did she notice its presence. The shine runner was sent crashing to the ground, landing hard. They let out a frustrated sound, followed by one of pain as she felt the telltale signs of a sprained ankle upon freeing herself from Mother Nature's tripwire. "Fuck!" They had to keep going, the water was so close.

|| Let the record show I rolled for Lily tripping and it was a big fat 5 on the D20 lmao
James
Jesus led their way.

Ruth never doubted in her heart Jesus would help her; and yet, hearing the stranger call out "Water!", Ruth felt the warmth of reassurance and safety spread to the limbs from her heart. Now, she could see it as well: the turbid faltering glimmer of the water's surface, just to the right of them. It didn't seem to be very wide or deep, but Ruth knew how deceptive the darkness could be, easily hiding the parts of the objects that would be so obvious during the daytime. Yet, this river was their main choice.

The other one was to keep running. But Ruth could feel her breath getting heavy: she wasn't the best runner around these woods. Her gun and the quietness of her step usually saved her the effort. Not today, though. Today was different in all the sudden ways.

The slightest tug of the stranger's hand was enough to make Ruth set course to the right. And yet, did she let go for a second? Did the person's leg get trapped in the entangled grass, did they slip on the mud or the wet rocks, or did the muscles betray them, suddenly realizing what they had gone through? Attempting to stop her from falling, Ruth blindly grasped her hand in their direction; yet the reflexes, unused to taking care of something so close to her, accidentally pushed the person off, accelerating her descent to the ground. Ruth had only hoped the stranger did not notice that.

From a short, hurt yelp, it was obvious that the fall was far from painless. Looking at the woman struggling to stand up, carefully touching her ankle, Ruth realized that the fall was not harmless either.

With her breath rapid, Ruth looked around quickly. There wasn't much time to think. She couldn't hear the ghosts anymore, but it was hard to imagine it meaning anything good.

"I'm sorry," She muttered, bent down, and scooped the person in her arms.

They weren't a featherweight, yet Ruth, used to carrying the bags full of animal carcasses, lifted her with ease. She focused on holding her carefully and sacrificed the speed of her step for accuracy, every foot planted firmly on the slope down to the water. When she reached the bottom, the fresh smell of cold forest water imbued the air; and it seemed like Ruth's head became lighter. She took a careful step into the water: the creek was shallow, barely reaching up to half of Ruth's thigh.

She was unsure what counted for crossing the water, so she carefully dipped the stranger in water like one would dip a piece of bread into the herbal oil, sitting down on one knee to thoroughly soak at least the lower part of her as well. She hoped the person wouldn't hold a grudge against her for that. She carried them out of the water, up the slope again (fortunately, it was shorter on the other side), and placed them with utmost care with their back against the tree. Only after, she took a sit nearby; hopefully, far enough to not make the woman feel uncomfortable or threatened. Ruth felt so out of breath her brain refused to conjure up her trusty list of social cues.

The heavy heartbeat in her ears did not stop Ruth from intently listening for any signs that the danger was still hanging on their tail. But deep inside, she had already realized that it was over. It was as if some extraneous noise, to which her ears got so used they failed to perceive it, suddenly stopped, and a sweet onset of silence gently stroked her ears.

Ruth was finally able to breathe with her full chest.

"How are you?" She asked the woman by her side, squinting her eyes at them.

||
Charles
If Lily had not known any better, they would believe that the stranger had just shoved her to the ground, adding insult to her injured ankle. Their revolver had tumbled out of their hand and Lily had just enough time to grab it and shove it into the somewhat tight-fitting garment below their shirt before Ruth acted. She thanked her younger self, the one of a few hours ago, for not lacing it up as tight as they did when she wanted to look more man than woman. If the situation had been different, the thief might have joked about Ruth needing to buy her dinner first. There she was, scooped into the strong arms of a woman she had only just met. Normally this would be cause for celebration, a victory even, but this wasn't normal, none of this was normal. Nevertheless, Lily swung her arms around Ruth's shoulders, distributing their weight between her arms and the rest of her body, the motion felt familiar. It was a move she'd executed countless times while dancing with her previous partner, it had almost become instinctual. It was a habit from her previous life now performed in her new one, the stage shifted from a New York City speakeasy to the Appalachian woods, and the two could not be more different.
_ _

Ruth was carrying her towards the creek, that much she expected. What they had not expected, however, was for Ruth to kneel down unannounced and lower Lily into the cold water. "Hey, _hey!_" She exclaimed and tried to climb higher into Ruth's arms or squirm out of them altogether. Lily was not a fan of water, she hated few things more than the feeling of wet clothes clinging to her skin. They couldn't even swim properly, her drive to be free from the stranger's arms was now in direct conflict with her drive to not drown in the frigid water seeping into her clothes and rippling below and around the both of them. "What are you doing?" Lily had no clue how deep the water was or how far Ruth was going to submerge her. The motion reminded her a little too much of a baptism, and it would take much more than a shallow creek to wash Lily from her many sins. Just as Lily was about to push away from Ruth, the woman stood up again, moving out of the water and crossing the stream. 

The stranger placed her down with near-reverence, before sitting down a few feet away. Lily tried to get up before regretting that choice as her ankle throbbed once more. _Well, shit._ The ghosts were nowhere to be seen or heard. Something in the air had shifted, the feeling of dread was slowly ebbing away, it was as if the river had carried some of Lily's panic downstream. The eerie darkness had lifted and for the first time Lily got a good look at her rescuer. She was tall, with a stern face and a body that indicated she was used to heavy lifting. 

How was she? Exhausted, shocked, wet, cold, still lost and much more scared than she'd like to be. Questions swirled in her mind: What were those things? Why were you out there at night? Why did you just dip me into a creek? How did you know to do that? Are you sure they're gone? Why were they there to begin with? 
_ _

"Who are you? Why did you help me?" 

Lily may have tried to sound braver than she was, but fear was still evident in their body language and voice. She did not feel comfortable sitting on the forest floor, unable to run should those things return again, but she needed answers and now seemed to be the time to get those.

Altruism was a foreign concept to Lily. Ruth could have just as easily left them for the haints and saved herself. But she hadn't. Instead, she broke her cover and carried Lily to safety. Why? What was there to gain from helping a lost stranger, what did Ruth see that Lily did not?
James
The question made Ruth's eyes open wider. She wasn't sure if the strong shiver in the stranger's body was evoked by the cold, the fear, or something else entirely. But why would a person who fears her wrap their hands around her neck as tightly as the woman did when Ruth lifted her up? The movement was so smooth it felt rehearsed, theatrical. Right then, for a moment, Ruth felt her cheeks warm up.

Of course, she couldn't forget the second part either. The woman bucking and splashing in her hands, begging to let her go. A procedure like this would get anyone shaken up for the rest of the night. Of course, Ruth didn't mean no harm; but how could the person know this? In a town where the monsters roamed the streets every month, with no cure but a silver bullet straight to the head, there could've been worse saving rituals.

Speaking of the woman. Now, that they had more time, and she didn't need to avert her gaze in case the person would sense it and turn around, Ruth could properly make her out. Soft face but a lean rangy body, somewhat boyish in its silhouette. Eyes huge and wide, standing out on her face like silver fishes in a night pond. The kind of beauty that would be valuable outside of Briar Ridge. Inside of it, however, all that anyone could do was look.

And speaking of the werewolves. Why would a person this graceful be in the northern forest, this late in the evening, completely alone? There was either some unbelievable scenario at play, which happened in Briar Ridge more often than she would've imagined, or – this wasn't a person at all.

Of course, they didn't look like one; but, as Ruth had properly gathered out of the conversations of her cagemates, they never did. The most timid, quiet, kind-hearted soul would be clanging their teeth and dripping saliva as soon as the full moon would show its radiant side. These things didn't die when the bullets hit them one after the other, so why would the water be of any harm? A cold and shivering werewolf was a werewolf still.

"I never meant to drown you." Ruth still felt the need to apologize, to reassure, "I'm Ruth. Hunter. I'm from the Coalition, too." She added, in case this would make the werewolf (if it was a werewolf) give up their slimy ways, "If you saw traps on the way here, these are mine". 

Her voice got fuller for a second, letting a teaspoon of pride seep in. She was always proud of her work.

"Don't see many people in this neck of the woods." Ruth rocked her head lightly, eyes still fixated on the stranger's face, looking for any signs of fleeing, "North ain't a place for moonlight strolls. Now, why are *You* Here?"

"And what's your name?" Ruth added, albeit clumsily. Now would certainly be the time to learn their name. Better late - and having survived the chase with the haunts, - rather than never.

||
Charles
The conversation had shifted more towards interrogation than pleasantries. Lily felt all too much like a cornered animal. They might not have seen any traps on their journey, but with their ankle messed up, she may as well have stepped into one. How could she have been so foolish? Letting her guard down around a stranger the way she had, Lily was getting soft, Briar Ridge was ever so slowly tearing down her walls. She liked the feeling of trusting people, she'd started to enjoy, _truly_ enjoy friendships and a small spark of hope had ignited within her. A spark that told her maybe she could be safe here, maybe she didn't constantly need to look over her shoulders, maybe people here wouldn't inevitably stab her in the back. Lily had let her guard down, and now she'd pay the price. 

Eyes darted away from Ruth, looking for any signs those ghosts would return. Ruth's tone was friendly, but cops could sound friendly too, right before they got your supposed allies to betray you. Lily couldn't deal with not being able to run, they needed to have an exit at every moment. The first thing the thief did when she entered a room was look for exits, look for ways out, look for places to flee. It was an instinct she held onto even now that there wasn't anyone left to chase her. There was no place to flee here, not with Ruth so close to her, not when her foot was injured in a way that would slow her down significantly and certainly not when the threat was a hunter who had no doubt been in these woods for years. She was trapped.
_ _

"Lily," She said, starting with the easy part. As to why she was here, she'd gotten lost, that was the honest truth, but the smuggler thought that Ruth would probably not deem that an acceptable answer. She gently moved her ankle, suppressing a pained hiss but unable to hide the grimace on her face. Definitely not fit for running around in the woods. Lily had heard someone mention the Coalition, supposedly they were anti-werewolf. She could understand why a hunter would make a good addition to the group. Lily herself wasn't very impressed by these so-called wolfmen. They'd left her alone for her entire stay. They knew that they existed and that they were supposedly get dangerous, but from where Lily stood, they weren't that big a deal. Powerful, that they were, and Lily was drawn to power in any form.

"I didn't see any traps," She admitted. "I got lost, I promise you that's the truth." She looked back at Ruth. Lily didn't normally make a habit of speaking the truth in situations akin to the one she currently found herself in, but exceptions could be made. "I was trying to head to the Eastern roads, looking for a bridge that I never found. If I did, I wouldn't have been here." Would Ruth be okay with Lily being a shine runner, Lily supposed there was only one way to find out. She just hoped the Coopers wouldn't find out and fire her for it. "I'm a moonshine runner, I was pre-checking routes." Her tone was defensive and bordered on hostile. "I was trying to head back to town when I ran into those," She looked around again, as if saying the word would summon the ghosts again. "_Things._"

|| Ruth big strong woman that you are, you are frightening my little thief lmao
James
*Lily*. The name suited the woman. Evasive and beautiful, a fusion between delicate and strong. Ruth wondered if it was chosen. People who ran around the woods at night and didn't notice her traps (which, she had to say, was a flattering compliment), usually didn't use real names.

Eastern roads, at Ruth's estimation, were pretty far from here. But if the woods at night could be misleading, the Briar Ridge forest was a master of deception. It was a labyrinth, and getting from east to north was far from the craziest theory, or the craziest thing to happen today to Lily. Ruth's gaze warmed up.

"So, criminal?" She said, with curiosity and a tad of respect. There was a life of contraband right under her nose, unknown and wonderous, "I didn't know Briar Ridge had its own alcohol. How do you like your job? Does it make the life here more... Exciting?"

The last question wasn't exactly with her opinion: for her, Briar Ridge could be much quieter, with all its stories of dramas, love triangles and heartbreaks she was able to catch at her times in speakeasy. But people as beautiful as Lily probably required entertainment, high-quality one at that. Was the born here and yearning to get out? Or did they arrive here chasing something? Did they find it here?

But those, of course, weren't the questions for the first-time conversation in the woods.

"You want me to check your leg?" Ruth asked, "I'm not a doctor, but I've had my fair share of accidents. If it's twisted, I might be able to put it back."

||
Charles
Ruth hadn't known about the moonshine operations that wove through the very heart of Briar Ridge. It wasn't just the Coopers, Lily had heard word of Ashworth shine, Estep shine, and of course, Dimitra was thinking about starting her own operation as well. Briar Ridge and moonshine went hand in hand in many a speakeasy conversation outside of the holler. For those in the know anyway. Hell, Lily and Dimitra had crossed paths multiple times back in New York. Moonshine was hardly a well-kept secret but apparently, not everyone knew about it. How it was possible for anyone to not be aware of the moonshine was beyond Lily. Just their luck, running into one of the few people who had no clue. "That it does," She said, avoiding revealing who she worked for. They may not be a loyal person, but the Coopers were fine employers, for now. They didn't want to lose that job, not before Dimitra's operation was properly set up. "I didn't know Briar Ridge had ghosts, guess we're both learning things today, huh?" 

"Criminal," They confirmed, cursing themself inwardly for just admitting it like that. What was she thinking, telling a stranger? Truth be told, Lily considered herself a thief first and a shine runner second. At least they hadn't spilled that part, nor was she planning on it. Ruth being interested in her career was a benefit for Lily, who had expected a much more judgemental response. "Excitement is one to describe it, yes," She started. "The job is-" Great, wonderful, all I have ever known? They couldn't very well admit to that. "-it's good. It pays my bills and normally I am better at it," She said, looking away for second. "I'll be sure to avoid pre-checking routes on my own next time," They quipped, pretending to engage in pleasant conversation. She needed Ruth to be on her side if she was going to make it out of here. They needed Ruth to like her. "It's not for everyone, but it works for me. I guess the same can be said about hunting, I couldn't do that."
_ _

Lily loved her job. It brought excitement, adrenaline rushed through their blood when doing things she knew were illegal. They loved the thrill of taking things right from under people's noses, nothing felt as sweet as being able to get exactly what one wanted and pay for it with coin liberated from the pocket of a stranger. Shine running felt similar, the nights loading up cars between corn stalks, hushed conversations between people she'd started to consider friends, and the _other_ late night activities that followed were not unwelcome either. It felt like home to Lily, who had not known anything else since the day she turned 18. They'd found their people in criminality. 

"The leg will be fine," A lie, a bad one at that, done on purpose. She didn't want to come across as too eager, better to have Ruth insist than to have to beg for help. Truth be told, Lily did not enjoy the thought of having a potential dislocation fixed in the middle of the woods. Altruism had always felt like a made-up concept to her, yet she was seeing evidence of the contrary in Briar Ridge. Ruth seemed to genuinely care, and few people were as easy to use as those with bleeding hearts. Ruth had gone out of her way to protect Lily, who was now aiming to make use of that urge to protect. She'd yet to fully lose her manipulative ways, if only she knew that they weren't necessary here.

They paused for a second. "...Well, if you could," They sighed. "It's not fine, you're right, but could we maybe look at it when we're not out in the woods?" Lily let the fear she felt shine through again. If Ruth could show Lily the way out and back to the town, there was always the option of fleeing then. They needed Ruth to go back home. "I don't feel very safe out here right now," She said, returning to a well-practiced role of helpless girl, just a toned-down version of it. "You know the way back, right?"

|| lily is truly going ooohhh you want to help me so bad. Goblin
James
The word "Ghosts" Cut Ruth's ears, like that invisible grass cut which hurt is always especially unpleasant. 

"They aren't much ghosts, Miss Lily," She said politely. She wished to keep silent, but of course, she was now responsible for arming the charming person with as much knowledge as she possessed, if they would wish to roam the woods at night again for their scary and exciting profession, "They are as much like me and you as a scarecrow. Just pretending to be human when they're weak. When they get stronger..." Ruth took a pause, "The legend has it, they can look like whatever they want. Can make you lose your mind. Ain't scared of the daylight, even. But I don't know. Never met any scarier than the ones me'n you saw."

She stretched her legs to give them some rest until they'll need to move again.

"My husband taught me the trick with the water," She told Lily, "Said they won't touch if you if you pretend you ain't seeing them. But in case you didn't, cross the water." She paused, and when she started again, her voice was apologetic, "Please, forgive me for... Lifting you up without a warning. I was panicking. There wasn't much time... For thoughts."

Ruth listened to Lily describe her job with pleasure. Of course, she wanted to reassure the woman:

"You did well." She added, "Many people don't escape them at all. Bring them to their homes. Then their homes don't belong to them anymore."

She only nodded at Lily stating that her leg was fine, then correcting herself. Ruth understood that feeling. Sometimes her body didn't let her know something hurt until minutes, even hours after. It was good that Lily realized it so quickly.

"I don't know the way," She told them, "But I can find it. Don't be scared, this forest isn't as big as it appears. But there is a long, lumpy way there from northern woods. Are you sure you can walk? I can carry you until we get to smoother grounds."

||
Charles
They sure did look like ghosts to Lily. But she'd take Ruth's words for it. Whether they were, she didn't want to ever see them again. Nor did they want to come face to face with their more powerful shape-shifting counterparts. Lily was good at sussing out secrets, and enjoyed that fact, but now they were doubting if they'd stumbled upon something even they shouldn't have. If not-quite-ghosts and werewolves were real, then what else was? Where did it stop? Were bloodsucking demons real? Had Lily been someone with knowledge of literature, she may have conjured up images of Carmilla, and decided she wouldn't much mind if vampires were real, nor would she mind being one. Alas, Lily didn't read much.

"If not ghosts, what do you call them then?" She wondered. Lily had made their fair share of split second decisions, and could hardly blame Ruth for acting how she had, the woman seemed to be cursed with a need to care for strangers. Had Lily been in Ruth's shoes, she'd probably have left herself to the ghosts. "It's okay Ruth, you did what you could and look," She said, gesturing around. "You got both of us out safely." They hoped their words would instill some confidence in Ruth. Should those things come back, Lily would need Ruth to act the same way again. She couldn't have the hunter believe that Lily had minded (which she had, albeit less so now). "I'm sure I can wash that water out of my clothes just fine." They hoped so, it wouldn't do, to have to toss a perfectly good outfit because a bunch of spectral assholes decided they wanted to mess with people.
_ _

They felt their heart sink when Ruth confessed to not knowing the way, and having to look for it. It sunk further still when the unfortunate truth of just how far she'd ventured from Briar Ridge was revealed. _Well **Fuck** Me, I guess._ They didn't much feel like walking, and their leg really was messed up. She could hardly complain at the thought of being carried again, actually. It hadn't been all that bad. "If it's not too much trouble," She said, sounding hesitant. "I think that might be best, I don't trust my leg right now, and I don't want to trip again and make it worse." Lily needed her legs, both of them, to be in good working order if she was going to continue earning money the way they had been. "Do you not normally venture this far into the woods?" She asked, taking the opportunity to see if her newly discovered detour might actually be beneficial. Somehow. Having knowledge of places few people went to never hurt, even if they were not planning on going back there again, ever.