Barrow Fields wayward

Disa did not want to go home. To grief that wasn’t hers, to Soto's lantern eye. The desert was losing its shine.

Barrow Fields was the northern, grassy twin to the desert. A whole lot of nothing, except for the occasional super-sized mole hill. It wasn’t conventionally spooky, but nevertheless gave Disa the creeps.

The sand-and-cinnamon girl walked slowly north, head held low and eyes moving nervously between the grey sky and the ground. Was that a belly rumbling? Or a growl?