Quoted By:
As you slake your thirst from the mountain spring water, you eventually decide to rely on one of your oldest companions. One of the very few you managed to keep alive, though it was not by your hand that it was possible. You supply her with your mana now, of course, to keep her going.
"Crow? Crow, where have you gone today?" You ask out to the sky, your voice powerful enough to carry far. It did not take long before you hear an answer, from the top of the waterfall.
"Great king? Great... king? You call for me?" A shrill voice says, before it chortles faintly. You look up, and see that she's taken up her old clothing again. Beak over beak. She is persistent when it comes to that, you suppose. Her body remains in flux, how humanoid she is can change in less than a year. Once, she had eyes on her back, today... she seems to be leaking again.
"Heeeheee... The great dragon still calls upon his bird~!" She says, laughing again as she jumps down, using her wings to slow her descent as she lands on your magnificent back. You let her crawl a little higher, up on your shoulder.
"I've... got the feeling something's... amiss today, Crow. Would you happen to know what might be wrong?"
"Perhaps the great king has been getting his great little dreams again? Where it dreams of being a man-thing. Back when old Crow was young? T'is but a silly dream, Winged Monarch. Big things like to dream of being smaller... yet the small things dream of being bigger! HEE HEEE!!"
"I suppose it could have been a dream. Or a nightmare, perhaps... It all hurts so very much. Yet there is a certain purity in that, I suppose. That great family of man..."
"Dragons should not be so reverent of the vermin! They should just feed them, to their wise old bird! Heeeeeee...."
"You've not had man as long as I've known you, Crow... and I've known you for a very long time."
She caws at that, before she twists her head around a few times, pecking under her wing... until she stops, swiveling around.
"Sire, King, Dragon! I sense... some man-things approaching. I can hear their little footsteps, and their shrill voices!"
"Yet more? Do they never tire of throwing their heroes upon the pyre?" You muse. A shame to end their lives, but they have a tendency to persist.
"Ohh, these are no ordinary heroes. Much smaller. Much more... strange. Hmmm. Pink is bringing them in!"
