[Another had emerged before Anders, but had taken little effort to clean himself from the dirt and sap of their impromptu graves. The first thing to come into sight on the edge of sight in the dark cave of roots and dirt are hands, pitch black in tone and stained with escape from the earth. Once-white shirtsleeves, a black coat now soiled, a disheveled cravat... and a low, deep voice.]

I swear that I mean you no harm. I will not come any closer.

[The hands rise to show that they are empty, and the speaker keeps his word about the distance, remaining largely in the shadows. But there are hints, even in the darkness... that there is something wrong about the silhouette. Two pale eyes, white iris on white sclera, stand out in odd positions against a black face, the shape... strange, elongated, sharp, with two horns extending back from the crown.]

But please... tell me...

[The tone is entreating in a tone as human as any, whether the speaker looks human or not.]

Have you seen a girl? A young girl, with pale hair... I must find her...