Barrow Fields crows lie, strewn their eyes are

Sam's shoulders tensed when the stranger made a snarling noise that more or less qualified as what, and rose to become Mt. Sam's highest point when the could-have-been hero physically recoiled. Hope swooned, missed the fainting couch, and died on the stone floor.

Thinking fast for once, Sam mirrored the retreat and schooled his face into a look of deep embarrassment. He needed to say insane things, but the words could stand on their own — no performance of Every Lunatic necessary.

"I'm so sorry," Sam said quietly. "You're not who I thought. It's just.." He paused to look down the stretch of flat, blissfully tree-less plain. "Are you missing any family? Friends? Maybe.. they disappeared mysteriously?" Maybe there was blood and meat and no skin?