Barrow Fields drown me slowly

The air was thick with salt by the time his body began to protest against him; joints locking up every few steps and limbs aching, like he was an old man. Sometimes his body got like this - so tired that he had to rest, which was itself a struggle because his mind emptied so readily. But somehow the salt-laden air helped him; making him more aware, and for longer. It was familiar.

The wanderer was passing through an immense field when he was struck with images of a soot-faced stranger, and he stops, maybe expecting them to appear like magic. Instead, the scent around him changes. Notes of sandy earth, metal, and the heavy scent of ...meat? He murmurs to himself even as his body reacts, moving him closer to the coast and the smell of freshly butchered flesh.