Barrow Fields and all the world was devils

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ysen nods for his companion to begin, and after - hesitation, perhaps - the boy starts, and ysen latches onto his every words. he sways with the melody and he listens, intently, lost in the beginning of the tale. i was head of a coven, and we worshipped death, but in the end, death found all of us except for me.
he cannot help it, he is helplessly intrigued! and he, too, looks out to the sea, to the crashing waves and the wind-stormed rocks lingering in the bay, and he sucks in a gasp of breath. "what drives death to such regret?" perhaps a simple what happened? is more appropriate, or even a muted noise of curiosity. but he is a storyteller, and to tell a story is to bring forth emotion! so he bites his tongue and asks the question, and is silent for the answer.

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