They were drawing close to the location, now - the hair along Rake's spine standing on end.

"... What if your friend is not here?"

"I... Don't know. We'll decide then."

They halted, Rake calling his bat in despite the fading light only recently waking him. There was a spectre - or, two of them, really. One an armored courser, and the other a... something. Was that what 'man' looked like? It was a strangely cobbled animal. It's armoring mimicked the courser's own - it was almost the shape of the Ranger, but there were no talons, feathers, or wings. Perhaps it was not a man at all, but a deformed creature of the Ranger's sort, and the courser had helped it find armoring to protect it's own hide?

The pair of spectres, the courser and the something on it's back, had paused, and their stares lingered on Rake and Fetch.

"... We'll see if the courser speaks the same tongue." Rake said, moving towards them. Fetch looked at him like he had sprouted two heads, but followed.

The spectres moved a little, as they approached - the courser pawing the earth with one hoof.

Rake stopped short of them a few feet, and both sets of individuals stared at the other.

"... Do you mind taking a look at my map." Rake said, speaking crisp and clear towards them.

The creature on the courser said something unfamiliar, in another tongue, and the courser spoke back to it - and stepped closer, speaking again, something much closer to Rake's own words.

"What --- did you --- I to look at?" Some of the words were foreign, but Rake could decipher enough of the sentence for it to work, if barely.

"Map." He laid it on the ground, holding it flaw with a hoof, pointed with the tip of another, at a specific marking on it - their intended location. The phantasmal shape of the courser leaned down to inspect it - and both Rake and Fetch's eyes drew to the spectral shape of a cruel, pronged arrow, clearly having entered through just behind the courser's ear, and exiting through the jaw on the other side. The ... something on it's back leaned down too, and its throat was cut in a wide arc - how they'd died, then?

" 'Ere? That's --- off that --- and that's the Castle. Over --- yonder, that big hill up and ---." Perhaps the last word had been ahead. The courser spoke between itself and the creature on it's back, as if translating something, and the unknown spectre settled back in it's seat.

"...Do you mind if I ask... what is that, and why is it on your back?" Rake tried last.

The ghost looked at him and Fetch, incredulous, silent a moment.

"Are- you ---- stupid? did --- kick ye --- head in?" Well. He'd tried.

"Sorry. We'll be off - and..." Rake's eyes lingered on the death wounds. "... Sorry. About all this." He trotted away, Fetch at his heels before the courser could say something else. 'Castle'. Perhaps that is what Corrode had come here for...