Luneshale Pass fear the reaper

"Purpose," Disa repeated, nodding as though she agreed. She stepped into the garden, flashing the jagged wound in her thigh for a split second before it disappeared behind the green.

"There's a name for your kind," she said, her hard gaze appearing and disappearing as she stalked down the row like a cat with its eyes on a mouse. "Many names, in fact. Mind eaters. Jardineros de la muerte," her pronunciation was bad, but decipherable. "Or just gardeners, but that  sounds almost sweet."