Thunder Dome well the raven is a wicked bird

the dark sky overhead encouraged the eyjolfur to move quickly, and boogey thorn did. he picked a path and stuck to it, following its tumbled egress up until it deposited him in the direct path of a grim-faced man. 

the brute’s posture shifted in surprise, calmed only by the lack of aggression lingering in the ashen male’s cheerless gaze. inquisitive, thorn advanced - his body neutral as he drew in the scent of plant and wilderness that clung to mahler’s pewter hide.