always from the pulpit during service leaned the devil

POSTED: Mon Feb 05, 2018 10:56 pm


Black shadows crossed the water's surface, and feathers fanned through mist. Croaks and cackles echoed in a dark and cold wood, interrupted by excited warbles when a skinny, brownish shape reached the edge of the lagoon.

I don't have food, you lot, go pester someone else.

Vesper was ignored as a pair of ravens all but tackled her, feet grasping for purchase in her tousled coat and beady eyes peering into hers. She was bowled over by their weight and flailed in the snow, while shrieks of "Boss! Boss!" mocked and delighted her all the same. She was breathless by the time she found her feet, and found more young ravens alighting on pale branches to stare down at her.

Boss, y'allrigh', Stormeye said loudly in her good ear, while runty Sheker fussed at a mat on the underside of her bushy tail.

Yeah, get off, Vesper growled, and rolled. Sheker hopped on her tail. Stormeye squawked and flew up into the branches, bullying some of the observers; roughly half of them took off and began to swoop over the water again, while the remainders blinked hopefully down at Vesper despite her announced lack of food. Some of them were scrawny things, raggedy-feathered; meals could hardly be spared to them during these harsh winter weeks.

Her fault, she supposed, just as the death of their comrades was her fault. What joy surged in the old coywolf at the ravens' hearty greetings curdled.

Evocati III
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