"Probably nothing that could be useful to anyone but me," he answers, ducking his head under a low-hanging branch in his garden, "but still important. Perhaps I'll get some answers regarding the, um... Regarding the way that... er."

He trails off, failing to find an appropriate way to describe just what it is he can do with corpses. His mind is preoccupied with the garden he's seeing, his head turning this way and that as he takes it all in, his hands reaching out to graze the petals of a nearby bloom. On top of his obvious distraction, he assumes describing some of his more unusual abilities would take some explanation, and he already has a bit of that to do.

"I'll get some answers regarding some of my abilities," he answers, deciding that'll have to do for now. "This mask -- it's as though it spirits you to somewhere else, though your body is still in the physical realm. I can't see you, but I can see a house here. One I recognize."

The path before him turns, aisles leading through the rows of flowers. There's something unsettling about them, as every blossom seems turned in his direction. They're all watching, waiting, urging him to walk faster to escape their gaze. He obliges, picking up the pace toward the sound of rushing water.

"I think... I think I might have lived here."