Dragoncrest Cliffs sometimes, I pray for you at night

I meant to post this on his birthday ehehe

Indra kept tabs on everyone, even though she didn't remember their names or put forth the effort to truly know them.
These wolves were strangers that she refused to trust. The only one worthy of it was @Val, and it was the boy who she sought now, with a hefty bundle of flowers carried alongside.
She knew his favorite places because she'd made them her favorite places. At this point, Indra had been gathering the flowers from the purple field - from building her hidden altar - and this last bundle was the end of it. She'd sequestered bits and pieces wherever she'd found his scent.
This last bulky bouquet was for his sleeping place.

saltwind. so pleasant. and the sea? rival to the very sky. 

the raven spoke with gulls, heard from them words of the wolves, the egg thieves and fledgling catchers, whom inhabited their nesting land.

she now watched one of them, from the lower branches of a crooked and dried tree.

she made a soft, inquiring croak.

He wasn't here — that made sense. That was normal, she told herself as she moved hastily in to the space. It smelled so strongly of Valravn here. It didn't exactly bring a sense of calm to the troubled girl, but she did feel excited in a way that was unique; maybe that was the anxiety over being caught.
She hurried to arrange the flower stalks along the ground.
Some of the buds weren't open yet so those she plucked from the clusters and tossed aside. The open blooms looked bulky but nice here, brilliant and purple. A few petals fell as she moved with too much animus, but these she swept in to decorative piles.
A croak sounded in the trees.
Indra stopped. She looked around her immediate vicinity and then up towards the tree boughs, where something white caught her eye, but she couldn't quite make it out.

were they small or young? autumn leaf orange, scarred along neck and forelegs. pack disputes? low rank? a poor maid, perhaps?

"hello."  the raven croaked, head tilting. "are you a wolf named after gemstone?"

The voice came again. It wasn't a normal voice; Indra thought it resembled the sound of branches against branches, which made it eerie. She looked around herself terrestrially and saw no sign of any wolves, so it wasn't someone of the pack. It came from up high.
When the bird moved its head, she saw it plainly.
I'm —! Indra began to answer, but stopped, and let out an awkward huffing laugh. I'm talking to a bird. Good one Indra, you're so alone that you're imagining friends in high places. She felt her soul curdle inside herself.

the raven made a sound that was a laugh; short, cut-off caws.

she leaned forward to better look at the wolf, now possibly identifiable as a he judging by name and voice. 

( unless the recent lack of interaction with canines had skewed her perception of their sex identifiers. and if so, what a fun mistake that'd be to make! )

"perhaps this a vision, hmm?" the pale bird cocked a brow, more to get into character than convey anything to the short-sighted hunter. "an ancient god, come speak with little indra!"

her voice adopted a pitiable cadence. "poor, poor little indra, so hurt. and for what reasons? none!"

The girl had never seen a raven up-close before. She didn't know they were meant to be a little smaller, a little sleeker, and a lot more black than this genetic anomaly. She had no idea that they were smart birds or capable of speech, so when the visitor called themselves a vision Indra was stunned, then accepting.

The mention of a god made the fur on the nape of her neck stand on-end, though. She had bad luck when it came to gods; plus, why would any god want to talk to her?

Immediately she could think of one, and it wouldn't be a happy reunion.

Do you serve the -- the bear? As she asked this of the bird, her voice dropped to a rasping whisper, as if speaking of the bears of Ursus would summon their attention. Speak no evil, see no evil, right?

After asking this so blatantly, Indra felt a wave of fear sweep through her body. It nested in her core, throwing her heart up in to her throat where it choked her. Her eyes misted immediately but she would not cry, no, she would panic instead — backing away from where the bird was perched.
N, nmm.. no, she utters with a shake of her head, denying all that she was experiencing as much as she could. It was clear the raven's words had deeply impacted her and sparked some kind of trigger.

improvisation was this raven's favourite game. a sport, really.

"the bear!" she cawed with drama, adding a frightened quiver to her voice. "one face of three! the long-sleeper, the enemy of bees, it has its own domain - but its claws cannot reach beyond it."
 
she looked to the autumn beast a moment.

"it cannot touch you here, little indra." she assured gently. "there are worse things you should fear."

150!

The flowers forgotten; Val, put out of her mind.
Instead there was the memory of wolves clamoring across stillrift and down in to her prison; they formed one shape, the shadow of the bear— one face of three!
Three? Indra did not understand.
She couldn't listen to this and so she turned and fled, as if the whole of Ursus was there on her heel, and the bear behind them. The clatter of the raven's beak became the sound of claws scraping dry earth.
As Indra bolted she heard the softly spoken words behind her: there are worse things you should fear.

woohoo!! here's to 150 more :DD

the raven watched the red hunter flee, gleam in eyes.

a man setting a raw hunk of flesh into a heated pan, waiting for it to sizzle.

she laugh-cawed once again. great wings beat.

she'd fly above the hunter, then rise and glide past the treetops. the mountains sung to her a promise of fresher flesh.