"I have. Curses, gods and demons, the whole slew. You're the first ghost I've had the pleasure of meeting, if that's really what you are. I can't say I ever believed in them. Never believed in Gods and demons, either. But it's hard to deny the existence of something when it's staring you in the face."

In this case, the back of the head.

Snow and sallow leaves squish underfoot. She'll be damned if she slips again-- certainly not in front of her new company, and so Ellen proceeds down the mountain in careful steps. One in front of the other. The air is cold and stale. On each exhale, she expels a cloud of dragon's smoke.

"Alright, I suppose. The mines keep me busy. I've met a few locals. Nice people. I'm not thrilled to be here, but what can you do?" She shrugs.

"And the technology is archaic."

Lambert would be proud of her griping, she thinks.