He turned to look in that direction, and he relaxed. "Bean sidhe," he murmured, sounding like he was trying to stifle his amusement. "Its not unusual to see them here. They often hang around graveyards after the dead have been buried."

She quickly steps towards him, looking around. "I just wanna get out of here..."

"Plenty of glamour to be found in old cemeteries. You can feel it, cant you?" Grief, fear, and despair hung like a thin gray mist over everything, clinging to the stones and crawling along the ground. It tasted like salt and tears and raw, festering grief, mixed with a black fear of death and the dread of the unknown.

"Well yeah but it doesnt mean I like it!" She whispers.

Ash nodded. "I dont much care for it, but several of our kind prefer grief and fear over anything else. So graveyards tend to attract them, especially at night."

She nods, sticking close to him.

"Besides, most things that would grab you are just nursery bogies--irritating but harmless. They only want to scare you." He sobered, and his eyes narrowed, peering around the cemetery. "The real threat will be the Grim, assuming this cemetery has one."

She frowns over at him, "What's that?"

An eerie howl cut through the night. Ash froze, lean muscles tightening beneath the fabric of his shirt. A lethal calmness entered his face: his killers mask. The cemetery went deathly still, as if even the ghosts and nursery bogies were afraid to move.

She stays silent, looking around.