Barrow Fields und sahn sich nur noch zuweilen im Traum;

shapes move, far out and distant, nameless. for a moment, they are silent custodians of the barrows, and then once more he speaks. he whispers questions of death and destinations as if she might have the answers. she does not think of it often, death, it is neither something reverential nor effable, merely an end. " dark, " she murmurs, turning a moment to look to him. 

first the body fails, then the mind, and finally whatever force sees fit to hold flesh to bone. she has seen it in the eyes of prey, the moment life dissipates to nothing. then comes decay, until finally bones lay bare and are made to be taken by the earth. " not worry, we have lived dark before. " she tells him, words dry, and yet certain even in their hoarseness. she imagines it to be a relief, to fade into dark when death comes to claim all that had been important in life.