Barrow Fields i ain't from 'round here

@Kestrel - preferrably set before this thread. <3

there was a brisk wind on the day he'd decided to trek across the fields. as much as he'd wanted to hunker down and find somewhere warm and damp, the cajun brute was too compelled by the spell of the saline breeze. it had wrapped itself around him and lured him toward the coast without remorse. buckshot followed, too, because he knew how fearsome the voodoo magic could be if he didn't listen. once he'd struck into the open, though... well, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise with the sense of someone watching from just over the way. 

casting his gaze back over his shoulder, the large brute hunkered himself low and prowled forward. this was an attempt to make himself appear as small as was possible, but he knew that was a difficult feat. the feeling never left him; he thought that there were eyes on the back of his skull, just waiting. in order to keep his bravado up, buckshot drew his skull upward and stiffened the muscles in his shoulders and legs. the wind whipped against him like a ferocious laugh. still, he felt like he was being watched.