Two Rivers Isle it's the living who are ghosts.

Perhaps some of Adylaide's softer nature was rubbing off on him, because when the stranger across the river made that soft noise from his obviously destroyed throat and thumped his tail on the ground, all caution seemed to thaw from him. This man was harmless, and clearly subservient. Ulrich looked at him with kind eyes, hoping he'd be able to see his expression from across the water. Do you... need a place to stay? You'd have to work if you came here, but we share the work equally. There are only two of us now, but three would make a stronger claim. This is Two Rivers Isle.

He cut off speech there, realizing that the man would not be able to answer him in words. Ah, if you want to stay, just nod, he said, feeling awkward, not wanting to put emphasis on the man's throat injury but needing to acknowledge the disability it caused all the same. If the dark one chose to stay, he was sure they'd all find a way to communicate.