Barrow Fields i was lost in the cities, alone in the hills

in the snow, a set of crisp hoof tracks cleaved through the barrows on a meandering path. the flatlands, buffed only by the rise of intermittent mounds, seemed largely vacant save for the swirl of snow playfully pushed around by the wind.

she seemed alone; the hind she was following must have turned inland at some unknown provocation — midways through the territory the tracks scattered and long, scraping marks signaled the doe’s bolting departure. caiaphas wondered what could have occurred to startle the beast, for no tracks save her own followed after.