Secretagentgirl, on a mission deep inside the haunted jungle. Normally she is a traditionalist, with a trenchcoat, but she lost that a few miles back. It vanished into the teeth of the river creatures as she pulled herself up out of the water. An offering to the jungle she said, as she disappeared beneath the trees. ja5on’s trail had led from a windy mountain cliff to a city in the desert to here. The trail was now in danger of running cold once and for all, so beset by adversities had she been. The problem with the haunted jungle, she thought as she raced through the undergrowth, is not the fearsome beasts who dwell within. It is the combination of the fearsome beasts and the ghosts of other fearsome beasts, who are atavistic embodiments of forgotten perils. These creatures had been described to Secretagentgirl as looking like tangled angels with mirrors for faces. She had doubted the accuracy of that report, but two nights previous she had seen one from afar, lurking by the moonlit river, and she could not think of a better way to describe it. She had also been told that these angel-ghosts could cause death from more than one dimension, which was to say that if you were unfortunate enough to stumble upon one, it could steal your breath away before your next heartbeat, or you could suddenly find that it had killed you years ago, in a city far away. She put the thought out of her mind, running as quietly as she could across the gnarled roots that covered the jungle floor. She had memorized and then burned an old parchment map of the jungle on the boat which had left her at the river-mouth. She let herself sense where to turn. There was something about a tree up ahead of her. She ran to it and paused, putting her hand against its trunk. Its bark felt different from the bark of all the other trees around it. ja5on, she said, and listened for sounds in the leaves above her.