Reluctantly, Mary takes a step backwards, leaving Raven and Oak to
face each other.
“Oak,” Raven says by way of greeting, “I can only assume that
events have taken on a truly strange aspect for the Forest to have
sent you.”
Oak almost smiles: a thin, officious line that cuts across his face.
“Shall we save the pleasantries for later?” he asks, “Can you
prove who you are?”
“You know I can not,” Raven replies sourly, “While you also
know exactly who I am.”
“Suspect,” Oak corrects him, “I suspect I know who you are, but
I have no way to be certain.”
“Then we are at an impasse,” Raven states, “Any suggestions as
to how we might proceed?”