"Interesting end result," she muses. Ellen's bluntness reminds her of some of the soldiers that she's accompanied on missions, in a thoroughly pleasant way. There's no time for bullshit on a battlefield, as one of those men had told her. An American, too, if her memory serves her right.

Fortescue glances around them, wishing she could meld into the shadows. It would provide her with a good perspective on this Wendigo, most likely, but she's sure it would also alarm her companions. Or make them unfriendly.

Still, it's there for an emergency.

"I take it Wendigos aren't the only thing you track?"

Otherwise it would be a long time between jobs, she figures.