The Bracken Woods it don't matter if the cold wind blows

Inkeri smiled at her sister's softened look and bowed her head, eyes away. So far, they had traveled so far. So many paw steps, so many. Here they were, on the verge? Verge of what? Of what? She didn't know. Anja had said it was so, so here she was, here she was.

What you have always seen, seen? Two bridges, white and dark.

Inkeri shifted, anxious, irritated. Two sides, it wasn't right. Right. She wasn't right. Right. No it was not okay, but Anja was not a false prophet, no she wasn't.

Unite, two. Both ravens. Both.