Raven's Watch sacra

The watched path was not absent its travelers; today, Stjornuati carried an offering for the ravens he put so much faith in. They led him, tirelessly, endlessly, even in his dreams. Even back at the Keep, he kept a good relationship with the feathered creatures, and sought to do so now, especially as he wished to settle in this land. What good would it do to settle in such a place if the birds he so revered wanted nothing to do with them?

So, he carried the piece of bi-colored tourmaline in the careful trap of his teeth, having found it on his travels of these mountains. Its glint had caught his eye on a cold, autumn morning, and he knew then that it would make the perfect gift for the birds who so loved their glittery objects.

Only when did he feel the drum of the hringja quiet did Stjornuati halt along the path, eyes finding a particular pine tree with branches lower, closer to the ground than others. Raw, unfettered gem placed at his feet, his forepaws found the trunk of the tree, holding him up as he peered into the boughs, seeking a raven that would give him the time of day.