Barrow Fields with fenrir's chains broken

trade thread/spiritualist
@ Stjor

Ah, the coast. The smell of salt and iron upon the wind. She breathed in deep, relishing the change. With mainland behind her, she made attempts to cross this field. Her eyes and head kept themselves low - no particular reason. The spook merely wandered at this late hour, finding nothing but the wind her constant guide.

It billowed behind her, embracing her gently in its chill before shooting across the field. Snow layered the ground. Idle grass was brushed to the side. When she looked up, she spotted a man. It was as if he had come out of nowhere. "Greetings" she said, voice silky smooth with no fear. She approaches.