KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
Oh yeah, it was easy to smirk when you had the upper hand. Ha ha, this situation was hilarious. But Korbin wasn't entirely a pushover - he did know a few tricks - and when the man's teeth elongated into fangs, adding a certain vicious edge to that smile of his, Korbin knew it was time to get out of reach.
He shrunk under the hands of the other man, as soon as the dagger was let up from his skin. Cloth faded away into silken down that slipped through the mans fingers, and a sharp beak hacked viciously at the annoyingly calm expression on his face. There was a frantic flap of big wings, the clawing of taloned feet, and Korbin tried his best to get airborne, to return high up into the rafters where he would be - hopefully - out of reach.
"I'm Korbin Hale," he croaked, the caw of the raven overlapped with the young man's voice. Crimson beads stained the inky blackness of his feathers, and turning his head hurt more as a bird than as a man. "Weaver's brother!" And it rankled, to have to hide behind his sister's name to get himself out of this mess. One he would be sure to thank her for later, at length.
Oh, he was pretty sure he was not about to like this guy, at all.
He shrunk under the hands of the other man, as soon as the dagger was let up from his skin. Cloth faded away into silken down that slipped through the mans fingers, and a sharp beak hacked viciously at the annoyingly calm expression on his face. There was a frantic flap of big wings, the clawing of taloned feet, and Korbin tried his best to get airborne, to return high up into the rafters where he would be - hopefully - out of reach.
"I'm Korbin Hale," he croaked, the caw of the raven overlapped with the young man's voice. Crimson beads stained the inky blackness of his feathers, and turning his head hurt more as a bird than as a man. "Weaver's brother!" And it rankled, to have to hide behind his sister's name to get himself out of this mess. One he would be sure to thank her for later, at length.
Oh, he was pretty sure he was not about to like this guy, at all.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
