Blackfeather Woods a light above descending, below a dark ascending

and the bird knew she had planted a seed. like a mistletoe germinating, tendrils digging under bark to suck on the vitae of its host. a small bush at first, but it knew how to grow, yes.

the raven hopped backwise, away from the red muzzle, until her wings batted again, and she rose with a fine snowmist. large body aimed at the rare gap in canopy of blackfeather woods.

as she ascended, her croaks were sharp and quick, and too reminiscent of laughter.

last <3