LXIII. Rare and Mythic.

She picked the ginger, dry hairs, pilling them in a tuft, and tangled them with a piece of broken rope that laid next. "Even as a trophy, a real banshee's hair is not any more common than her ectoplasm." She saved them inside the backpack.

"Well, seems like we've found out, Vanilla. The final note of that fisher and his strange collar are still here." Rowie moved to the left, stopping next to the rock where the periapts of Ionut rested. "Will you take them too?"

"No," Vanilla moved next to him. "They aren't worth anything. I have heard that it is bad luck to steal totems linked with deals and contracts with the Supernatural. I'm not sure about that, but I'd prefer to not discover it by myself," She walked back to the sultry tunnel. "C'mon Rowie, let's head back home. We've seen enough."