Raven’s Flying

The birds swooped low

He sat perched on the rock staring into the valley ignoring me. Petulant. And stubborn. Not that I was better. I’d followed him out here.

Planting my staff, I leaned against it and sighed. “The time has not yet arrived?” I glanced to the heavens. The silver ravens watched as always.

He turned glancing at me. “Then when?”

I shrugged and held out my hand, offering a bit of seed. The birds swooped low. “When the ravens accept you.”

He huffed, turning away again. I wouldn’t have, didn’t accept that answer myself when I’d been his age. But that had been a long time ago.

I struck his rock with my staff. He nodded without looking. Good. I needed him to hold on a bit longer.

A bit longer.

Turning I walked away, and the ravens followed. Knowledge increased faster in pairs and the darkness would overrun me soon without him.

“Soon,” I said to the ravens above, praying they listened.

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