KORBIN
A raucous crow, a rootless tree
A coiled adder, night-old ice
A coiled adder, night-old ice
Perched upon the back rest of a chair, the raven had looked up at the sound of voices from outside. Blue eyes watched the door with a tense wariness, beak cracked open as if making ready to voice some protest.
From the bond came nothing. Closed off, on guard, the silence of its mind was almost too pointed. Like a mute scream, where a whisper might have sufficed. As feathers ruffled in the cold draft, they caught on the bandage around one of the wings. It was stark against the black plumage, and had clearly been picked at by the sharp beak.
From the bond came nothing. Closed off, on guard, the silence of its mind was almost too pointed. Like a mute scream, where a whisper might have sufficed. As feathers ruffled in the cold draft, they caught on the bandage around one of the wings. It was stark against the black plumage, and had clearly been picked at by the sharp beak.
A racing stallion who has wrenched a leg,
Are never safe: let no man trust them.
Are never safe: let no man trust them.
