Barrow Fields i ain't from 'round here

kestrel had spent the night in the strange field, an obsession with the otherworldy mounds and mist slowly taking hold. she had never been much for stories and had decided long ago that she definitely did not believe in the supernatural or fairy-folk her family had been on about when she was a pup. perhaps it was that she enjoyed the fear, though she would never admit to giving way to such a thing as fear. but this place made your hackles stand on end, and fire-flies shone like serpentine eyes in the fog.

emerging from behind one of the strange hills, kestrel nearly started when a dark silhouette rose up before her— but she dug her heels in and did not give way to submission, doubling down on her natural dominant posture. still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had stumbled upon a much larger predator... what're ya doin fartin about in this mist, laddie? she queried, scolding the beast like an impatient father to a son. nevermind that the dark stranger could ask the same of her.