Hushed Willows [m] Every song that I've ever loved

She could not have known him, silvered wraith that he was; a man with eyes oddly familiar, but Marina had never seen him before. Of this she was certain. It seemed that the willows only whispered their song for those lost souls wandering the world, for the stranger wore an air of melancholy not unlike her own. She was reminded sharply of the other men she'd met, each bearing wounds of his own.

At a glance this one seemed healthy enough, but long experience had taught her better than that. Marina, friendly but cautious of hurts she could not see, smiled her own tentative greeting. I didn't, either, She countered, leaving it unsaid that she had chosen this place just for that reason. Still, she wasn't so opposed to company; But it seems like these willows are where the lost souls come to be found.