Chapter 17. The Raven.

  It had to be the one from the bad dream. Whatever was inside its shallow metal walls had turned sour ages ago. It had to of been what he was smelling. Whatever it was, it had a chunky liquid look to it. He gripped the black stone in the pommel of the sword, twisting the point into the dirt.

  “Caw!”

  That dark bird dip for the man, beating strong wide wings in a taunting hang. Feathers thrashed and slapped against a fat face while thick hands attempt to shield. Deep guttural cries as the raven bully that thick fellow in a red shirt. Sid roar madly at this dark beaked menace attacking him.

  “Gahhhh! get away from me you damned bird.” The brave mustache command while thick hands swat and slap in retaliation.

  Sid wrestle with flying feathers until realizing that it actually was just the feathers now. His dark eyes follow the remaining down as they cascade gently to the grass. There was a low throaty churr just above his head. Cocking his head with a slow swivel, Sid glance over his right shoulder. There it sat.

  Perched on the handle of the big bad lumber dropper. It croaked loudly and pecked Sid right on his ear.

  “Ouch! Get out of here damn it!” The brave mustache try once more, while an assisting hand swat.

  The raven lift holding a low hover, waiting for the fat hand to stop. Taking roost over the axe handle again. It churr with a long throat roll before it peck that fat earlobe again. Sid glare with a narrow eye, while the bird click and quork spreading its wings slapping Sid repeatedly.

  “Stop that!” The mustache bark viciously. The bird cock its head with many short twitchy motions.

  Sid look into the deep gloss of those black miniscule eyes. He tighten his gaze with a narrow look. The reflection he see, it wasn’t his own. He didn’t recognize his reflection, he wasn’t sure who he witness, and honestly, he couldn’t be certain if what he was seeing was true. Exhausted and sleep deprived, Sid wasn’t even sure if the bird was real. Still though his stare and wonder intensify with each blink, until who he seen turn and walk away. Sid took tight blinks and looked deeper into the glossy blacks of those raven eyes.

  “Caw!”

  It supply the woods with a bluster of wild calls, forcing Sid to drop his sword while a thick finger plug each of those ears. Sid bent for his sword, causing the bird to gronk with wide wings, talons digging into the handle searching for balance.

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  Turning, again Sid look for the skillet. There it sat, still taunting him in the moonlight. He could see the deep night purples pulse in the black jelly-like substance. The charred tip of the sword dug into the dirt just a bit more, while Sid came to a knee. He reach slowly for the handle, tips of those sausage fingers nearly at the cold pans touch.

  “Caw!”

  The raven crow madly, before it peck that fat earlobe again really giving it a good pull. Sid ignored the bird. He was rather skilled at ignoring, perhaps he had a shiny star in ignorance.

  Again, that missing-a-finger hand grip obsessively while it debate the handle. The mustache even wiggle from one side of the nose to the other, thinking of the angle to direct the grab. That obsessive hand came up and stroke the mustache, the two consulted one another, conversing the strategy at hand. Sid rubbed the back of his neck, and that raven pluck one of those fat delicious fingers. The mustache nuzzle a finger, before the thick hand reached once more.

  Fingers wrap a tight curl around that cold iron, but only for a blinking moment. Sid’s fat hand sizzle with a flesh searing hiss. Burning the skin to an instant bubbling welt. The soft underside of his fingers and the palm of his hand had lifted with a blotchy liquid. It was a red sensation that reminded him of grabbing iron that hadn’t cure thoroughly. He growl lowly while the raven crow with mockery.

  Sid roar to a stand. A heavy thigh and dense calf tighten with fury, driving a stout foot against the pan. Black liquid spit with curling grace, splashing against the grass. A dull metallic yelp came from the skillet as it crash against a tree trunk. The smell of the spilled contents found that plump nose. Again, that brave mustache bend and twist while its neighboring nose flinch. Sid scan the distance with a slow spin, hearing laughter on the wind. The raven churr softly along the handle, while that heavy guy reached into the bag at his side.

  “Caw!”

  God’s that bird is loud, and Sid was sure he could get rid of his troubling gadfly.

  Pulling his hand from the satchel he hold the crusty loaf of bread. It was a broken loaf of bread but still he was sure it will work. Breaking a bit off, he held it up for the bird, and a quick black sheen ripped the bit of bread from his fingers. Another pinch from the loaf, another flash of the beak. Sid hold the loaf up, watching the raven. It kraa with each sway of that heavy hand, talons digging into the strong oak handle.

  Sid break and crumble the remaining loaf, letting the big crusty bits fall to the timber floor. The raven gronk wildly before gently lifting to a tree limb above. Sid took steps for the skillet while the bird reangle its flight for the crumbs.

  Wide hands fumble with his satchel, being careful not to touch, he slide the pan within the flap.

  Looking back at the raven that was quickly plucking the crumbs swallowing them down one after another. Then he looked up to the tower. The tower that claim Stallitusk Peak, the peak that overwatch the Sanctuary. Sid had never actually been there himself, but he’s heard remarkable camp-tale of witlessness and the players that pass through.

  He scan the mountain silhouette calculating his journey. It was possible he can arrive by moons glow tomorrow, if he continue right now.

  Pushing along with a side to side sway, Sid shuffled through the forest like a walking metronome.

  It wasn’t long though before that black beaked tyrant found the perch along the timber terror. The thick brows along that round face furrowed while those beady eyes squinted at the bird. The bold mustache made a dramatic humph before turning away.