Blackfeather Woods Trying to fit a square inside a circle

If he were Ronnie Cray, like his creator had based him from, he'd lean against a tree and light a cigar.
But Derg was not.
So he just stood there, watching the self-proclaimed sorceress.
He looked to the raven, it's beak opening and closing like it was panting.
 
A ghost of Nemisis. What would Donovan think if he managed to lead this one back to the party?
"Why you?" He pried.
Was she blessed by The Mother too? Or just one who pretended to be, or was just delusional. 
He wanted to put the bird out of its misery but feared that she might snap at him if he approached to do so.

He sat down, bringing his tail about him, waiting and watching.
Like one of the sentinels around them.