KORBIN
Leave my loneliness unbroken!
- quit the bust above my door!
- quit the bust above my door!
The Tundra takes, and the Tundra gives. Death and life walks hand in hand across the vast snowfields, and it is for the strong and the clever to pay attention, and partake in whatever opportunities present themselves.
A luxere dead after a run in with an ursur is a feast laid out for the taking, and the usual stillness of the day is disrupted when predators and opportunists from all around gather in to gorge. Between snow wolves and foxes, eagles and smaller critters it does not take long before the carcass is reduced to bones and bloody scraps. One by one the animals settle their grudges, fill their bellies and wander off again.
Only then does a stray bird venture down to have a look. It had been circling the skies above for some time, waiting for the squabble to subside. Unusual, for ravens to fly alone. There had been others along earlier, but while they did not seem to mind this odd stray, it was clear it was not part of their colony either.
Cautiously, the black corvid surveyed the area and jumped closer to the carcass. It was nearly picked clean. Nothing was wasted out here, and little was left, even for a solitary raven. All the same, it started picking and tugging at what few scraps of meat that others had failed to reach. Nip, yank, swallow, always with a keen eye scanning the horizon. Wary, in case some other, more cunning beast was out there. Waiting for a mistake to be made. For someone to lower their guard.
A luxere dead after a run in with an ursur is a feast laid out for the taking, and the usual stillness of the day is disrupted when predators and opportunists from all around gather in to gorge. Between snow wolves and foxes, eagles and smaller critters it does not take long before the carcass is reduced to bones and bloody scraps. One by one the animals settle their grudges, fill their bellies and wander off again.
Only then does a stray bird venture down to have a look. It had been circling the skies above for some time, waiting for the squabble to subside. Unusual, for ravens to fly alone. There had been others along earlier, but while they did not seem to mind this odd stray, it was clear it was not part of their colony either.
Cautiously, the black corvid surveyed the area and jumped closer to the carcass. It was nearly picked clean. Nothing was wasted out here, and little was left, even for a solitary raven. All the same, it started picking and tugging at what few scraps of meat that others had failed to reach. Nip, yank, swallow, always with a keen eye scanning the horizon. Wary, in case some other, more cunning beast was out there. Waiting for a mistake to be made. For someone to lower their guard.
Quoth the Raven,
"Nevermore."
"Nevermore."
