Barrow Fields elysium fields

Bless her heart, Maegi had never been the most observant of wolves. She was so often stuck in her own head that she missed the goings-on of the world around her, and the safety and security of the isle had driven her further into this bad habit. If there were pawsteps through the grass, she did not hear them. The barest of breaths? She did not hear them at all.

But that scent. . . That, she caught.

She came to an abrupt halt, head rising quickly, her eyes large as if she were a deer, surrounded by wolves. The girl looked around, feeling something in her stomach she could not name. Not fear, yet not joy. The smell had brought her back moons and moons, to when life was simpler. The effects of this sort-of time-travel on her body were not minimal; she was frozen in place.

"It's a daydream," Maegi whispered, gaze blank. "I'm daydreaming." An exceptionally powerful reverie, brought on by--what? That she now searched for Mou, like she had searched for Ramsay and Euron? Perhaps this was the daedra's way of telling her that this expedition, like the other, would be fruitless. Would end in more injury for her.

Silent terror lifted the silky, snow-white hairs along her spine.

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She was inclined to call it a daydream, later. And it might have been just her imagination.

But could her imagination conjure up pawprints in the tall grass, redolent of her brother's scent?