Blackfeather Woods a light above descending, below a dark ascending

a scavenger was a hunter only of rumors, chasing gossip to a well-rotted meal. it knew camaraderie with bears, and rats, and coyotes, and could speak with each in the language of hunger. so it was that there was not a bone, from the prairie to the park, that this bird did not know the place of.

and so it was that this bird had her own, secret delights, that the sight of this forlorn wolf reminded her of.

the raven croaked, and spread its wings anew. she batted them, rising off the branch and landing on a lesser one, of the neighboring tree. the bird bent her neck back, looking at the wolf. she made another, rumbling croak.

follow?