Foulques made no effort to stop Cassidy or Grey from kneeling before the plants, apparently called 'Witchblood', but did steady them slightly so the movement was as gentle as it might be under the circumstances. He frowned as he listened to her tale, and though his expression grew grimmer as it went on, he didn't weep. The time when such cruelty and death might have shocked him was long past.

"Tis unlikely that anyone is buried here," he said. "Despite appearances, this is no litchyard. But that someone was killed or mortally wounded here? Aye, that I could believe."

"But so long as they'll cause no harm to the surrounding plants or soil, that answers my chief concern. I'd rather not mark them out as especially significant however, not with the old virago lurking about. There are three of the Isle's original inhabitants present, but of them, she strikes me as the most likely to make use of poison. One among them has already attempted murder by means of sabotage- the victim being the man you likely saw being carried out earlier-, and I would rather not encourage any similar underhanded tactics." Mostly because he couldn't defend against them. "A simple circle of stones around them and a verbal warning will suffice to keep anyone from straying too near."

He gave them a polite nod, his grim expression softening slightly. "Thank you for your help," he said.