Imbrey crouched down in hiding, sheltered from overhead surveillance by a massive, pink-leafed tree. Her geist squatted down beside her, using one long, crooked finger to poke through the dirt. Occasionally a wet, gurgly sound would escape its mouth hole, or whatever it had under there. Imbrey didn't really care to look. "Bonethumper."
"Toooothgrinder, masssster," it hissed. With that, it proceeded to make a disturbing grinding noise, then spit out a chunk of something white.