Nights like this are, weirdly, Raghnall's favorite. The kind where the fog is thick but not blinding. Allowing his lantern to give off an ethereal glow as he walks through the cemetery. Grave robbers are hardly an issue with how isolated this town is. But there are other things to keep an eye out for. Animals burrowing around the tombstones, the wayward unseelie fey looking to cause mischief or worse, wriggling patches of freshly turned soil...
...Oh. That's not quite right. What on earth happened here?
Perhaps you can answer that once Raghnall digs you out of this precarious situation. He lets out a little "ach..." when he accidentally gives you a mouthful of shovel. The face that greets you is only barely apologetic. Rather than offering you a hand and waiting for your response, Raghnall opts to just...lift you out of your early, shallow grave like you're some wayward toddler playing in the dirt. You can feel your legs dangle a good two or three feet off the ground. Your sudden savior seems perfectly content to hold you like this, if the wagging tail is any indication.
"An open grave isnae the best place tae sleep for the nicht."
An awful attempt at humor. One corner of Raghnall's mouth twitches into something that might be a smile before it returns back to its stony default.
"Who did this tae ye? An' more importantly, are ye alright?"
