Barrow Fields und sahn sich nur noch zuweilen im Traum;

Stealing this! 

He found himself drawn to expand outward. Never terribly far from the willows, of course, but far enough away to satisfy the curiosity in him he had buried under literal and figurative pools of blood amidst the Nightwalkers. Part of him vaguely felt regret, abandoning Valour and Clarence, but it was necessary. And it didn't make sense to look back. Here, he could be unapologetically himself. Although currently, himself was slightly uncomfortable with the eerie surroundings he found himself in. The mist coming off the ocean skirting hundreds of strange mounds, like a giant wolf pack had buried their dead here, made him bristle. The sensation of eyes is one he was all too familiar with, as much as he wished he wasn't. This was Wolfbane's lands. He slipped through the mist, amber eyes sharply forward, cautious but unafraid. He knew Wolfbane. Knew the shadows of the dead. And in some way, was grateful for the magic this place held. His eyes settled on a figure settled delicately atop one of the mounds and for a moment he thought she was a spirit, some poor lost wraith. But he drew closer to her and slowly realized that she was, in fact, corporeal. 
"Place is kinda spooky, huh?" He asked quietly as he approached. There was something about this place that demanded quiet, demanded whispers.