Hazel was hit with a mess of mixed emotions.

One side of her, with her cultural heritage that included honoring the dead and the spirits in the land, held sympathy. So did the side that found value in native cultures and beliefs through history, their legends and mythology. Another side felt anger, thinking this man was in some way making a mockery of that culture. Another side felt just nervous enough about the man with the gun to want to go along with it, whether he was telling the truth or not. If he was telling the truth, well... that would be really horrible. And if he wasn't, he was unstable and likely to shoot. Neither of those options sounded good to her.

"Alright, so we stay inside, stay together, and do what? Call the police? If what you're saying is true, it would just possess them. We can't very well mask our scents entirely. And why hasn't this thing come out here before?" Hazel looked to Mark. "Has your family ever had problems like this before? I can't imagine this is the first time you've ever stayed out here."