[M] Soft upon a raven's wing

p. Ichabod and John

POSTED: Mon May 21, 2018 11:10 am

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Fledgling ravens begin to practice flying -- and these young birds are prime candidates for partnering up with coyotes thanks to their age and curiosity! Protect a downed fledgling from the dangers of the forest floor, or just entice them to bond with treats.


It was evident where the reclamation ended and the Haunted Forest began. Boggy earth squelched beneath Trinidad’s feet with every step he took, releasing his foot with a pop!. While the Casales did not consider himself a superstitious man, he couldn’t help but wish that he had marked himself with ash as the traditional Cenizan coyotes did before important events. Yet, even this spiritual act remained more of a comfort to Trinidad rather than holding spiritual meaning to him.

He had left the ash at home, but luckily he had a John along with him instead. Should any bloodthirsty ghost appear during their trek, all the Casales had to do was run faster. Or trip the Winthrop, should it come down to it.

Ay, you see any of the birds?” Trinidad remarked to John, squinting through the fog. The silky tendrils of mist wreathed over the blackened bog like a shroud, as if a blanket had been carelessly draped over the land. Not only did the extra effects leave an unsettled knot in Trinidad’s stomach, it also made it so that he could not see a damn thing.

They had entered the haunted forest for the sole hopes of stumbling upon Ravenswrest, which was said to be the home of Inferni’s fabled ravens. Back in Inferni’s old lands, Trinidad had never really paid attention to the birds. He knew that several of his packmates had bonded with these birds, the old Aquila Vesper among them, but beyond that knew very little of the age old partnership the coyotes had with the scavenging birds.

Of course it was John who had pestered the Casales into coming along with him on the search for ravens, although if Trinidad was being honest, he rather fancied the idea of having a bird on his shoulder too. He could feed it berries and shit.

The call of a raven broke Trinidad from his thoughts, and the coydog looked in wonder as a dark shape flew over their heads. ”Up here!” The coydog called, his pace quickening. For just up ahead, the raven had flown to a small copse of twisting trees, where it met with dozens of its perching brethren.

wc 365

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