[ it doesn't matter how many times keith's experienced the disorienting whiplash of extremes, each time is jarring and having all levity sucked from the atmosphere takes the air in his lungs with it. keith chokes on the embers of his laughter, eyes round as he looks from his growling wolf to the ghost materializing through the cinderblock wall.

nothing about her is recognizable. the corpse in the trunk had been badly decayed, and any semblance of a face had long been mummified. this ... thing could be that body, it could be fucking anything else for all keith knows, but when it speaks, she speaks with a voice like nails splintering on a chalkboard. keith flinches back, hand reaching for a knife and a bayard that aren't there. panic sets in a moment later when she surveys the three of them with empty sockets and speaks: ]

ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴍɪɴᴇ, ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʜɪᴇғ. ɢɪᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ.

[ eyes widening in alarm, keith doesn't even bother trying to piece out what it is she's even talking about. the paper? the trinket? the container? all three? right now, that's not a mystery that's important to him. right now, what's important is grabbing hold of shiro's shirt and tugging insistently to keep his best friend from getting any closer to the threat. ]

I don't know what you're talking about!

[ the wolf growls, baring pointy teeth in warning. the ghost shrieks, flailing rotting arms wildly as she pitches forward. ]

ʟɪᴀʀ!! ʟɪᴀʀ! ʟɪᴀʀ! ʟɪᴀʀ! ɢɪᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ!!