Crows

And so the crow waits. Waits and watches for the unfortunate to lose their way. Once the victim is lost, the crow launches off its perch, darkly cawing. It follows, ruthlessly follows, still waiting. Then the unfortunate gives up and falls to knees in despair. The crow flies in. The victim lifts his head in search for a glimmer of hope. But all that is seen are glimmering black talons. The unfortunate’s world ends. The crow feasts until only unwanted remains are left. It flies back to its thorny perch. Black orb eyes searching the surrounding area. And so the crow waits.

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