Blackfeather Woods too short, walking the streets, i'm hating my haircut

The other pulled a face.
Only a little -- he wasn't expecting such conditions he supposed. Who would?
No matter, Rowan dismissed it. It wasn't offensive or anything.
He sat down, feeling comfortable around the other, licking his lips before answering.

"Do not kill or eat the blackbirds. They are sacred to the woods and bad fortune will be cast upon us otherwise. Rather, I place them at the Altar."
It was better to be firm and direct for the first time. Not a 'probably' or 'might'.
It sets a precedent, you see. One that will be followed, and one that is adhered too. And one that others will know there will be consequences to if broken.

"They are blessed by the Daedra," or so Rowan thought. He wasn't taught much by Maegi, but he knew enough to make assumptions, "they are deities of the Wood," easier to say that than explaining the Melonii and everything he knew of them.
"They protect us."
Rowan looked up then as a chorus of caws rattled the skeletal fingertips of the trees.
The Blackfeather smirked, looking back to Zephyr.