Barrow Fields like phineus now i see

Whale, she'd said. He watched the lump of flesh upon the sand until her return, in part to study it, but mostly because he didn't have anything else to look at or to do until she joined him with her bundles of herbs - rather, he assumed she brought herbs. Willow had always carried them with her too. They had been his saving grace when he'd been found that fateful day.

As she got to work crushing things and manipulating the plants, she said something, but he'd missed it. His ears shifted and he looked to her with a brief glimpse, then shrugged — if she wanted to tend to his scars she was welcome to it, although Firefly did not hold out hope that they'd diminish in any capacity. He hadn't been able to look at his own reflection for a while and doubted he'd ever look the same.

As she worked, he watched as the plants became a paste. You're an herbalist, he muttered, as if confirming it for himself. Where did you learn? Perhaps she was one of the lost ones — like his friends who served the witch.