I don't know that it's a woman. Or anything human at all. [ he tilts his head, thinking, but there's clearly some avoidance there to thinking about this at all. ] Cree always said that I had the glint. The attention of the gods, for good or ill. A raven will always spot a shiny coin. I spent years in prayer to the Raven Queen, Matron of Death, but she never once answered me in life, and only ever visited me to touch the hands of those I know. [ he rolls his shoulders, uncomfortable. ] Sehanine, the Moonweaver. Probably. Or the crazed, last mad visions of a dying mind. But the gods don't care for my life or yours. It is amusement to them, nothing more.

[ as for the splinter. he rubs his fingers at his temple. ]

During the time I was dead, a ... gnat. A parasite. A splinter took hold of my body. A piece of something seeking a puppet, and my corpse happened to be free. Cree was unable to resurrect me during that time - the body was up and moving, but my mind was elsewhere. You felt its death in the memory, same as me, I'm sure.