They arrived at the farm after another hour of walking - the place where supposedly the famine first started.
It looked like it could have been someone's home only a few weeks ago. Plentiful plants waited unharvested on the vine, only just beginning to rot. Laundry left out to dry had scattered across the lawn, and the sound of a running stream - one beginning to dry up - left a faint, trickling ghost in Ezra's ears.
Rav closed his eyes and walked into the decaying field. "Hm." He was thinking. Pondering. Ezra wondered - could he sense something with his magic?
As they walked through the property, Ezra felt it - a subtle shift in the air. Like they weren't alone. He glanced at Oberyn, but the Nephilim seemed oblivious, focused on the farmhouse ahead.
He curled his arms around his torso, looking at the house with disdain. Ezra could tell he was uncomfortable - fearful, even.
"I'll take a look inside the house," Ezra offered. Rav nodded and shooed him along.
