KORBIN
A raucous crow, a rootless tree
A coiled adder, night-old ice
A coiled adder, night-old ice
The waving boot did indeed make the raven back off. Beating its wings, it gained some height before drifting back down, to perch in the snow a few paces off to the side. The injured wing dragged slightly and would not fold neatly against the side, but if the bird was inconvenienced by this it did not show.
Blue eyes lingered on the youth at the question, measuring. No answer was offered however; and the bird gave no sign of wanting to shift to make conversation easier. Instead, it coolly adjusted a few feathers with the heavy beak. There was no mental bond between them to reveal what it might be thinking, and from merely looking at it, little could be gleaned.
But it did linger. That was something, right?
Blue eyes lingered on the youth at the question, measuring. No answer was offered however; and the bird gave no sign of wanting to shift to make conversation easier. Instead, it coolly adjusted a few feathers with the heavy beak. There was no mental bond between them to reveal what it might be thinking, and from merely looking at it, little could be gleaned.
But it did linger. That was something, right?
A racing stallion who has wrenched a leg,
Are never safe: let no man trust them.
Are never safe: let no man trust them.
