Barrow Fields blue

The pirate slinks through the field lazily, weaving around mounds of dirt with little attention paid to his path forward. He's perfectly comfortable with simply existing right now, caught in some strange space between daydreams and hyper-fixation on his surroundings. He sees it all, yet he processes none of it. His thoughts are elsewhere, drifting, unable to be defined in the muted moment. There is little to do but wander for one who has chosen such a life, after all.

Patrols near the Watch had become ever more frequent. While the numbers of those at the Willows dwindled, their Watch grew ever numerous. Val tended to stay close by unless she had one of her brothers with her for the occasional excursion.
It was on one of these solo ventures that she went to the mounds. Careful not to disturb them, as always, she noted that there was a salty mist hanging about. A drizzle of rain would occasionally start up, never quite getting to a full blown shower. The ginger woman stopped for a moment to groom a spot that was bugging her at the shoulder from these teases of rain, when in the air she noticed the smell of a stranger.
She followed it for a while. It carried wholly unfamiliar notes. When she eventually found the source, she was pleased to find a fit male coloured with a brown and agouti pattern. She kept silent, eyes wandering over his figure rather suggestively as she paced to the side, like a cat in a cage, sizing him up.