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10TH OF JULY, 2018
Musquodoboit Valley, At the Remains of Anathema's Fence
Dogmeat didn't like this place. The moment she glided over those wooden spikes, her gizzard squeezed tight. The crow didn't fly into Luperci territory as a rule, for they would respect hers as long as she respected theirs. Even scavenging in "abandoned" territory was bad - others might come to claim any leftovers. As a crow picked over the carcass of a dead deer, so too did Luperci pick over the remains of dead packs. Dogmeat almost made a sharp U-turn, frantic glances shot below in case an alarm rose.
Nothing. Not even a peep from a flock's warning crow, even though she knew there were murders nearby. Something about this place felt suffocating, dark, like a shadow cast over the land. Dogmeat's wings pumped faster, only for a strong wind to slam into her face-first. Cawing in surprise, Dogmeat barre-rolled, beating her wings against the turbulent air. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and she looked up to see black clouds approaching. The edge of the storm moved fast from the southwest. Dogmeat could've sworn it was heading left a moment before
This wasn't foreboding at all, was it?
Another gust of wind convinced Dogmeat it was time to land. She'd wait out the coming downpour, then get out of this crazy place. The crow followed the gust, flying over some of the overgrown palisade. It looked like there hadn't been passage or maintenance through that part for some time. Diving down, she stretched her wings wide, reaching for the nearest, thickest branch. She'd hide and wait for a bit, then see if something had better cover. Other than a thick cluster of leaves, her current choice swayed with a groan, the limb battered and bare.
A thunderclap rolled from the southwest. Down here, the air seemed thicker, more heavy with something. It wasn't exactly malevolent, but it felt like a bad leftover would feel in her beak. Dogmeat clacked her bill together, feathers ruffling and rising. She tried to shake off the strange feeling, but it started to sink into her dark feathers. It might be humid fog coming down from the mountains, but her sight was still clear. Dogmeat hadn't seen anything from above, either.
No, not foreboding at all.