The darkness of the night was stifling, so far from the clean air of the coast. Brackish water from the moor didn’t reflect the pure moonlight like the ocean did. The plants seemed to absorb light instead of reflecting it. Torin didn’t like it.
He hadn’t moved too far inland, just over a series of small hills that blocked the ocean breezes and trapped the scent of decaying grasses in the downs. It was the smell that had pervaded Torin’s nightmares. It was the smell of home.
Ghostly lights flickered here and there on the surface of the marshy ponds that were scattered over the area, nature’s attempt to lure human prey prematurely into her embrace. Torin knew the marsh lights were nothing to fear, provided you knew better than to follow them. He had heard tales as a child of strangers who though the lights were a rescue party and ran until exhaustion or drowning took them. By the time they were found, there would onl