The Call of the Raven [Goliath] May 19, 2019 18:02:59 GMT -6
Post by Crow on May 19, 2019 18:02:59 GMT -6
There is nothing for you there. It is nothing to you.
The words were virtually screaming at him, and yet Crow sought to defy them. It had been long since he had acted against their direction, defiantly trying to head east in that moment. But he was weak. He was no stronger than he had been in youth; instead, he hooked north, finding solace in the proximity to his prior "home" and yet enough distance to keep the anger in the crow's voice at bay. There were many silent moments on his journey, his mind lost in the musings of a lost and yet somehow, found, individual. He was shrouded in darkness, yet some days it felt as if he possessed a clarity that others simply had not managed to find. There were so few who he approved of, and yet it seemed every thought that crossed his mind contradicted the gods lately. Crow could not even head east without fierce redirection. But he had no strength to ignore it, and when he sought to do so, the draw to turn around was so strong that it was as if his mind completely fogged over and sent him the opposite way. It seemed he was stuck for now, whether he liked it or not.
The brute licked his chops, dry and cracked after a prolonged period of good behavior. This was uncharacteristic of his alter to allow him such an extended period of control, though he knew that this was not his first choice. It was like there was a magnetic pull here, and Crow wanted to know what they had in store for him. Likely his time of independent piloting was short lived; he would soon be pulled back for his regular duties. They had given him such leeway, and he would have paid to see the look on Mara's face when she encountered his last target back in the caverns in South Igneir. It would become apparent to others eventually, particularly if she planned to remain there long term. He had not been quite ready to "settle down" per say... The gods had not given him approval for such a commitment to mortals. There was plenty of work still to be done, and he could not fully commit himself to both them and a leader. Not without their approval. He had so many things he wanted to do. But they would have to wait.
It was as if the carrion was growing tired of his resistance, simply pulling him away from a situation that demanded more attention be paid to her than to it. It should not have come as a surprise that he had been involuntarily dragged to the tears; the steam was almost worse than the water of the pools, and at the moment he was visibly in range of the steam, the piercing golden eyes of the crow narrowed in disapproval at him, its caw calling out to him in annoyance. He gulped; never before had the manifestation acted out with such anger at him. The brute immediately lowered his head. If anything, this had been a lesson about the call of the raven. He would be wise not to disobey it in the future, for he had much atonement owed to the gods before he would be free of them. But Crow was no fool.
He knew he would never truly be free. They were a part of him, and he had grown accustomed to their presence. Crow did not know how to be anything without them; they had been there as long as he could remember, and when his world collapsed around him, the crow had been there for him. It had beckoned him to a new way of life. But underneath it all there still rested a scared little brute, simply listening to the manifestations of his own mind.
"he speaks" - he thinks