(Quite sorry it took me so long to respond…I have finals coming up in the next week for school, so I've been quite busy studying and making sure I'm ready for those)
Samuel frankly hated witch burnings. Even with a trip to a neighboring city, it was no secret when he returned that there had been one. The smell of burnt hair and skin was in the air, and he was sure it wouldn't dissipate for at least another day. Sighing, he pulled on a smile, waving at a neighbor as he led Argus, his horse, to his shop.
His shop sat near the middle of town, by the town center, and his home was right above, complete with a small stable to keep Argus in the back. They were neat little spaces, tidy and well-loved, but small, though he wasn't complaining. He liked his home, it served as somewhere to go back to at the end of the day, and it held all of his possessions.
He kept a small smile on his face while he walked, winding through the streets as the smell of a fire slowly got more intense. The one downside of his home was how close it was to where burnings took place. He was right around the corner from where the pyre was usually built. After the many years he had lived here though, it didn't bother him much, and so he didn't even wrinkle his nose as he passed the smoking wood, though the lack of a body did make him pause momentarily. Scanning the area, he frowned, but continued on. It wasn't his place to wonder what had happened, and having sympathy for whoever the poor soul was would lead him nowhere except burning as well.
(It's all good, I totally understand! Good luck on the finals!)
After a minute longer of resting, Nike shifted back to her large hound form. She nudged Thatcher up, and continued on. They eventually reached a small, run down barn on the outskirts of the field. She guessed that it belonged to someone in the town, but it looked like no one had been there in a while. She pulled Thatcher inside and set him down towards the back on a thick patch of hay. Thatcher groaned quietly in pain as he rested down, and Nike, shifted to look human once again.
"I need to leave you here for a minute, ok? I need to get us food and water… Maybe I can steal medicine or something," she breathed, her bottom lip trembling. Thatcher simply nodded his head as he rested his eyes shut, feeling exhausted. Reapers had no need for sleep, but he felt like he was overdue for a long nap.
Nike hopped up and hurried in the direction of the town. People did not know she was closely related with Thatcher, so she should be ok to grab some things for him. The smell of burnt flesh let her know that she was close, and her eyes watered a tad. When she emerged into the town, she looked around quickly. She would have to bed for food and water, as she usually did. It was much easier for her to do so because of her being a little girl and all. She did look poor and dirty, and that added onto how people felt pity for the little "orphan" child they saw.
She was startled when a horse almost collided with her when she was not paying attention. She yelped in a way and stumbled backwards, eyes big. She knew the horse could probably sense something malicious with her. All animals could recognize that she was also some sort of animal, and usually acted strange around her. "S-Sorry, mister!" she apologized quickly.
Samuel was only a little ways away from his home when he felt Argus spook, hearing an accompanying yelp from someone. Instantly, his eyes widened and he looked to see who he had almost ran into. Argus snorted and stopped as he did, backing away from a little girl, the person he assumed had almost been ran into.
"Woah, easy," He said, holding his horse still as he looked to the girl. "I'm quite sorry about that," He started, genuine concern on his face, "Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?"
The girl looked homeless, raggedy and dirty, and in desperate need of food. It didn't take Samuel long to decide that he was going to help her. Even if Argus hadn't almost run into her, he would've decided to help her anyway. Maybe she had been a child of one of the burnt witches.
Argus snorted and pawed at the ground as he was forced to stand still, wary of the girl. The large horse seemed scared of her, or at least uneasy, that could be seen just through how he refused to stand still, and how he barely listened to Samuel's command to stay put.
Nike looked up at the male and his large horse from where she stood. The horse was startled by her, for a good reason, and she resisted the urge to growl at it. But this interaction could be good for her and Thatcher- she would just have to ignore the horse the best that she could.
“I’m ok! It didn’t hit me or anything,” she started, her voice high pitched but almost having a sort of growl to it. That could have been mistaken for a sore throat, but considering she was a hell hound, it was how she always sounded.
She looked up at the male on the horse, her eyes big. She had mastered the ‘puppy dog eyes’ look- partly because of how young she was and her being a dog, essentially. “Do you happen to have any spare food or water? I lost my mama, and I haven’t had anything to eat or drink since yesterday morning,” she said in a tone dripping with anxiety and upset. That was a lie. She had caught a rabbit that morning before everything got bad.
Samuel relaxed slightly when he heard that she hadn’t been hurt, nodding in response to her question. “I don’t have anything with me right now…but I live right over there,” He started, pointing to his shop, “I’m heading there now, and I’m sure I can get you something to eat while we try to figure out where your mother is.”
Argus snorted again, stepping away from the girl before Samuel sighed and tugged him still again, adding in with a gentle smile, “Sorry about Argus by the way, usually he’s an incredibly nice horse.” Argus seemed to understand his words, pawing at the ground again as he eyed the girl warily.
Samuel studied the girl carefully, sure that she wasn’t a threat. Even if she was, he would never tell her to go away without food. He had been on the receiving end of situations like this, and he knew just how thankful he had been whenever someone had helped.
Nike looked in the direction that the male had pointed. She looked back at him with a grin on her lips. "Thank you so much, sir!" she exclaimed. She looked over at the horse with her head tilted thoughtfully. "I guess he just does not like me for some reason." She had a little huff of disappointment in her tone, but she could completely understand why Argus was wary of her.
She did not appear like a threat at all, she looked just like a little homeless girl. She heard a cawing noise and her head snapped to look over at a tree where about three crows were perched. As she inhaled, she realized she could smell that familiar scent. Thatcher? He was the crows. There were far less due to him being injured, but it was still a surprise. Though she was annoyed that he was so stubborn and refused to stay anywhere to let her go off on her own. She would not be surprised if the horse started getting more riled up because of the Reaper's presence, now. "Where do you live at?" she asked quickly, tearing her gaze away from the small flock of crows and over to the male on his horse.
He chuckled at her reaction, shrugging. Easily, he dismounted Argus, keeping a firm hold on the reins even as he smiled, "I live above my shop, right over there, the one next to the bakery."
Argus whinnied in protest as Samuel tried to lead him a little closer to the girl, staying firmly put. He didn't seem to want anything to do with her, and it was clear he noticed the crows as well, his ears alert and swiveling as he took in the scene. There was no way the large horse was going to get anywhere near the 'threats' he recognized.
Samuel sighed at the stubbornness from his animal, shaking his head, "I can show you where I live, and maybe Argus will calm down with a walk. I'm Samuel by the way, what's your name?" He glanced up to the tree as crows cawed, thinking nothing of it. There were always crows around after a burning, looking for a meal of the dead. These ones couldn't be any different, though they were a little too late, the body was no longer on top of the pyre.
Nike resisted to roll her eyes as she heard one of the crows caw. That was so annoying how stubborn Thatcher was, even when he was practically dying at the moment. Her eyes squinted at the horse, Argus, for a moment when she realized the horse noticed Thatcher. Of course the horse did, and she knew that it would happen, but she was still not happy about it. At least there was no way that horses were able to talk to people.
She looked up at Samuel with a smile on her face. "Hopefully he will! But it's nice to meet you Samuel!" she started before continuing. "My name is Nike- like the goddess." She said that with a proud tone in her voice. Nike was a Greek goddess- the goddess of victory to be specific. The goddess was known to be prideful and competitive in all that she did. That related to the girl very closely. Thatcher had given her that name when he found her a couple hundred years ago. She had been a pup at the time- around 7 years old in human years. She had been the runt of a hell hound litter, abandoned because of it. But Thatcher took her in, and now they were inseparable.
(Not sure if I told you, but I have a packed week and a half coming up starting today, so my responses are most likely going to be shitty…or at least short. I have to take eight important tests in the span of a week and a half, and I guarantee that I'll be burnt out. I apologise for this, and I promise I'll try to answer as frequently as I can while also making sure the responses are good quality)
"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Nike," He replied, nodding his head in greeting with the same soft smile, "Shall we get going? I can get you something to eat as soon as we reach my home and I put Argus away."
Samuel held out a hand to the young girl, unsure of if she would take it or not. He was ready to get going home and unpack, but now that he had a new task at hand, he was more ready to get home and get food for Nike before she was left going any longer without food. The crows still bother him as he glanced up at them, but as he started on his way, with Argus following along slowly, they became less of a pressing issue to him.
Argus snorted as Samuel tried to get him moving, pawing at the ground once more before finally going with, though the horse kept a noticeable gap between him and Nike. If Samuel attempted to put the girl on Argus' back, there was no doubt that he would not cooperate.
(no no i totally get it, i just finished midterm week so i’m feeling so burnt out)
Nike was essentially unable to take Samuel’s hand. She sure tried, but Argus would not allow her to get that close. She huffed softly, throwing a little narrowed eye look at the horse as she resisted the urge to growl as well. “I don’t think I’ll be able to ride him…” she sighed, tilting her head to the side- almost like a dog.
“I can just walk! I’ll follow you and Argus, I don’t mind!” she chirped. That would be better for her. She much preferred walking places- though doing so as a human was quite annoying. Things were so much quicker when you had four legs instead of two. She could also keep track of Thatcher much more easily that way.
(ooo those aren't fun….)
Samuel sighed, then shook his head with a smile, "I don't quite like the idea of making a young lady walk, but I think Argus would do more damage than good if you tried to ride him. My home isn't far, the walk shouldn't be too bad."
Argus didn't seem any less skittish around Nike, even with the promise that she wouldn't be riding him. He still kept a wary eye on her, his ears swiveling around as the big horse listened for danger. Samuel may not have been able to sense what she was, but Argus could, and he was doing everything in his power to try to make sure his caretaker knew that she was a threat.
He clicked his tongue as he started getting Argus moving, offering one more small smile to his new guest. His mind flooded easily with ideas on what he could make for food for the girl even as they just started towards his house. There were so many options, and he wasn't going to send her on her way without a warm meal and more food for the road.
(yeah, was not fun at all :,) )
Nike giggled when she was called a 'young lady'. She liked Samuel so far, he seemed to be one of the more friendly and less paranoid people she had met in the village so far. "I don't mind walking. I like it, actually!" she hummed with a smile on her lips.
She began to skip alongside the horse, though she kept her distance. She was not even close to as strong as she was when she was in her hound form, so a kick from the horse would surely do some damage to her human form. She told herself that she would not stay too long. In and out. She had no idea how long Thatcher would be able to stay in the form of the murder of crows- who were going from tree to tree, following them. The last thing that she wanted was to get held up and have Thatcher shift back in the middle of the town square.
A group of men hurried past, holding guns and other sorts of weapons. Her head tilted a little as her very sensitive hearing picked up on their conversation as they headed away, and she began to chew on the inside of her cheek in a nervous sort of manner. They were talking about the missing body. About Thatcher's missing body. They had finally realized, and now they really had to hurry.
(Ah shit, sorry for the delay in response…I'm not sure if you stalk any of my rps, but I've had a killer time this last month with mental health, and I'm trying to respond to rps as soon as I get the energy to. I promise I'm not ignoring you)
Samuel calmly lead the way towards his humble home, watching the group of men with a barely veiled scowl when they passed. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but from the weapons, and the way they were hurrying, he assumed they were going to torture some innocent individual after accusing them of witchcraft.
"Do you have any favorite foods, Miss Nike?" Samuel asked, pulling his attention away from the men and towards his next goal of getting his new guest food.
Argus snorted as Samuel spoke, stubbornly stopping for a moment before he was forced to move again. The horse's eyes were darting around hurriedly as he took in Nike, then the crows following them. Argus wasn't quite sure what or who they were, but some deep instinct told him that just like this girl, they were danger. And danger was not something he liked.
(HEY i have no idea if u r still active but im becoming a bit more active now. I left bc my mental health was not doing well, and i lost the motivation to write. Writing is something i enjoy, so now that i am doing much better in my life, i'm going to get back to it! Happy holidays if u have celebrated btw and i hope ur doing well)
"Favorite foods…" Nike started, sounding thoughtful. "Probably anything with meat. I'm not that big of a fan of vegetables." Typical. Being a hellhound, of course she would be a carnivore. Could she eat vegetables or fruit? Of course. But would she rather not make herself sick with the horrible taste of it? Obviously.
They stopped again due to Argus's wariness. A soft growl emitted from her throat in an annoyed way, but it could easily be mistaken for her clearing her own throat w a small cough. Glancing up at the crows, she noticed there was one less than before- as well as a few feathers littering the ground. She could smell the blood in the air. They would need to hurry. Who knows how much longer Thatcher would be able to stay in that form?
But she didn't imagine it would be so soon. In the trees there was a thud, and the crows were quiet. The crows were nowhere to be seen. They were thankfully far enough from the public to be the only ones to notice it. The smell of blood grew stronger, and there came a groan from the trees. He had shifted back, right there in front of them, barely hidden by the bushes. But a form that obviously resembled a human could be seen. Nike's eyes grew wide at the sight. She couldn't let Samuel call out to anyone. The man was nice, but it was obvious that there was something wrong. The smell of Thatcher's burnt flesh seeped into the air, and ichor was splattered onto the ground.
"Thatcher!" Nike cried, purely out of instinct and panic. She rushed over, trying to shield his body with her own small one. Her head whipped in Samuel's direction, only this time she sported a mouth full of sharp canines and had a now very obvious snarl to her tone. "You need to leave, now! If you try anything, you won't see tomorrow!" She seemed horribly frightened. One of Thatcher's partially burnt hands reached up to lightly grip her wrist, and she glanced back at him momentarily. She knew what he was thinking. Samuel could help them- give them a place to stay until Thatcher was healed. But the last time this had happened, Thatcher was bound to a stake and burned alive. They could not risk that again.
(Hi there!! I’m still here and I totally understand that! I’m glad to see you back, Happy holidays to you as well :D)
Samuel was a little surprised to hear she didn’t like veggies, but he didn’t show anything of it. He had asked her what she liked and she had told him. “Right,I’ll keep that in mind.”
Argus was clearly being a pain in the butt but Samuel took it in stride and was patient with his horse. Maybe it was just the smell of the burning that was making him skiddish. That would explain it. Though as soon as he decided on the explanation he heard a small groan from the trees and his attention turned. Was someone in there?
Nike’s panic answered his question and he started to hurry after her, ignoring the whinnie of protest from Argus. He stopped short of the body in the trees though, facing a very inhuman Nike shielding someone behind her. “What do you mean if I try anything?” He asked, his eyes wide in concern and fear, “Who’s behind you? Are they hurt? I can help, I mean no harm to you.”
His words were true, but he was in a slight state of shock from the suddenness of it all. That and the fact that Argus seemed incredibly wary around these two. The girl wasn’t human, he could tell that. Was the person behind her? The one she called Thatcher. Nike had told him to leave, but he refused to. Someone clearly was hurt, and he could help them. No matter what the story was from their injuries.
(Ahh hi! Good to see that ur still here! Thank u for understanding :) )
Nike was practically shivering with fear. She wasn’t scared of Samuel. She was scared for the fact that they could both be caught. While the people of the town might have thought Thatcher was a witch and did not know the method in which he could be killed, it would still be a horrifying and brutal process of them trying. Movement shook her from her shaken state as Thatcher used his grip on her as leverage to sit himself up in the slightest.
It was clear from that moment that Thatcher, now in proper view, was not human. While his physical body appeared so, the gleaming ichor dripping from a cut down the side of his face, from his nose, and from his mouth gave away the illusion. The flames had just barely licked close enough to his face to singe his throat. What gave it away the most was the marking on his right inner forearm. It appeared to be a tattoo, not existing at the time, of a scythe. That is a part of what had gotten him caught, but with his cloak having been stripped from him before the burning, it was on full display.
“Don’t be afraid, human,” Thatcher spoke in a raspy, deep and damaged voice. “We mean no harm to you. I’ve been a wrongful victim to the flames. Take us into your home for rest, and I can promise that you will be rewarded from the gods themselves.” He spoke in a fluent manner, obviously seeming to have some sort of education. If not for his current state, he would have been seen as an upper class individual.
He hushed Nike, giving her a pointed look. She frowned and the canines seemed to slide back up into her gums, and she looked like a little girl once again. She was still guarding Thatcher, but despite his horrible shape, he seemed to still be in charge and in control. He had a heavy presence to him and his stare at Samuel. He had not said it, but if Samuel were to refuse his deal, he would have no choice to allow Nike to take his life. He was unable to, due to his bound contract to serve life, but Nike had free will.
Argus seemed to protest greatly to the presence of the two of them, and he reared up on his hind legs when Thatcher spoke. The horse wanted nothing to do with the pair, even as Samuel managed to get him under control.
It was more than clear to him that Thatcher wasn’t human, just like little Nike, but he had said he could help. And he intended on keeping his word. With a faint nod, he agreed to help. “Right. My home is back in town…I was on my way to deliver Argus to his stables before I returned there. Can you walk? Or do you need a ride?” For being in a large amount of shock at the situation, Samuel was handling it quite well. As well as a human could when encountering two very inhuman beings.
Witches had always seemed like a far stretch to him…but maybe they were real. They certainly seemed easier to believe were real after this encounter.
Samuel didn’t walk any closer to the pair, worried that if he did Nike or even the Thatcher being would tear him apart. His eyes stayed trained on the pair though, as if he was scared to let them out of his sight.
Thatcher thought the offer over, eyeing Argus. There was no way that he would be able to get onto the horse without it possibly lashing out. He threw a glance at Nike, who was looking at him with an equally concerned look. She didn’t think it would be a good idea to do any of this, but if they had to, they would play it safe. “No, I’ll be ok to walk. As long as we are not spotted,” he replied, before asking Nike to help him up.
Nike wouldn’t be able to with him in that form. She turned her attention back to Samuel. “You won’t be able to see me for a little bit… Your human eyes can’t see this form of mine properly,” she mumbled. Her small form seemed to be shrouded in ash for a moment before she seemed to completely disappear from sight. Thatcher could see her though. She was now closer to 5ft tall, and had the form of a three headed hound. She was on the slimmer side, not as muscular as other hounds due to her being the runt of her litter.
Thatcher seemed to reach up and push himself into a stand on air, having used Nike’s back as leverage. Her left head, the more friendly one, nudged him with a little whine. He shushed her softly, giving the head a quick stroke as he leaned against her frame. He was quite tall and good postured, considering his state. His normally well dressed attire was tattered and singed. He reached up with one hand and wiped the ichor from his nose. “It is up to you if you wish to see Nike in her current state. Drinking a bit of the ichor from my veins will temporarily give you the sight of a non-human,” he hummed. “But we can worry about that once we arrive at your home.”
Samuel didn’t respond to Nike, just watched the girl to see what she meant. It was terrifying to see her at one moment then not see her the next. Even stranger to see the man stand up with her help, but see nothing but thin air where she supposedly was.
“If you don’t mind…I’m going to bring Argus to the stables before I take you to my home. It’s probably for the best anyway…the more time people have to relax after the burning today, the more likely it is that you won’t be spotted.” Samuel wasn’t sure how he was speaking so calmly to the man, but somehow he was. There was a bit of fear in his voice, but it was a surprisingly low amount for the chaos. He shook his head in response to Thatcher’s offer. “I’ll decline for now. Maybe after I process this all…”
Argus backed away from Thatcher and Nike, showing the group just how much they disliked what was going on. It was surprising that Samuel was even able to control the horse at this point, but somehow he was keeping a tight grip on Argus’s lead.
Clearing his throat and blinking, he snapped to action finally. He led Argus back onto the main trail to the stables, thankful that the path was empty. “There may be a wagon at the stables if walking gets too tiring…” Samuel offered, “It wouldn’t be the most comfortable but I could bring you to my home in that.”
At the mention of bringing the horse, Argus, to the stables first before anything else, Thatcher nodded. He understood wanting to take care of a loved pet of sorts. So many humans were attached to animals that they had domesticated. He couldn't blame them. While most were scared of them, he enjoyed animals. If the situation had been different, he might have reached out a hand to pat Argus's cheek. But he did not want to risk being kicked by the horse who could sense his energy and perceived him as a threat. "That is alright. Let's head to the stables now, then."
As the walk began, he stayed behind and allowed Samuel to lead the way. He did not want to get too ahead of himself. He had a heavy limp to his step, back slightly hunched due to the pain of the burns that covered the skin on it. Nike's three heads would continuously throw glanced in his direction. Nike wanted to speak to him, but she knew better than to start barking now. That could set Argus off and cause much more chaos than was needed, so she hoped that her looks, and body language spoke well enough for her.
"I'm Thatcher," he spoke up after a moment of tense silence. He could feel the fear coming off of Samuel. Maybe it would make things better to know that he was not so different and had a name like other humans, even though it was a very strange one. "I'm no sort of witch. I cannot show you now, but I will promise that I am no threat to you or any other well minded human." He doubted that his statement would bring much peace of mind to Samuel, who barely knew what was happening, but he hoped he could at least clear things up a tad bit so things could carry on in a smooth and controlled manner. "Nike means no harm to you either. I apologize for her display of aggression- she was only trying to protect me as I cannot protect myself in this state," he added, earning a little huff from Nike beside him.
Argus calmed down ever so slightly when Samuel led him along, though the horse was still skiddish enough that he kept Thatcher in sight at all times, even as the stable came into view.
The stable wasn’t a very impressive place, but it was better than nothing. From the outside one could see a large open pen connecting to the building, and a large door leading inside. The stable wasn’t huge, but it was still large enough to get by. Especially with only Argus.
“I’m Samuel…” He replied, trying to make conversation even in the strange situation, “If it’s not too personal to ask, what are you? If you’re not a witch, there has to be something about you that makes you seem like one.” Samuel realized after he spoke that the question could get him in trouble with Thatcher, but he couldn’t do anything to change what he asked. All he could do was hope he wouldn’t be killed.
Continuing on, he led Argus along, slowing down when they reached the doors of the stable. Samuel opened them with a grunt of effort, the heavy wooden doors opening slowly. Once the doors were open, he walked in while leading Argus. The inside of the stable was quiet, lit by the sunlight streaming through the doors. There was a stall taking up an entire corner of the place, and lining the wall next to it was all the equipment for Argus. Stacked in a neat pile near the door was hay and feed, and the door out to the pen was cut into the wall next to it.
How could Thatcher explain what he was in the simplest manner? There was so much to know about his species, and he was unsure of how to summarize it in this situation. He supposed that he shouldn't stress it. There would be much more time to explain the little details about Reapers.
“I’m a Reaper. Not like the scary, skull and cross bones Grim Reaper from all the bedtime stories. He doesn’t exist. My species takes the souls of those who have a dirtied conscience, and provides life and healing to those who do good. I cannot do so to whoever I like- I have a code to follow. I’ve been around for hundreds of years. They tried to kill me because I preformed one of those healing miracles. Last night, I brought life back to a mother and her lost child. I was accused of witchcraft and placing the spawn of Lucifer into the woman.” Thatcher paused to catch his breath as they reached the barn.
He leaned back against one of the walls to support his weight and give Nike a short break. Her right and middle head kept a close eye on Samuel and Argus while the left head sniffed the area by it’s feet, taking in their new setting.
“I don’t expect you to understand right away. There’s so much more to tell, but no time right now. Just understand for now that I cannot harm you, as I feel no need to and I would put myself at risk of death if I do,” he added in a tired tone. A singed hand reached up to brush his hand through his hair that was tied up into a bun. His finger tips lingered against the silver beads that were braided into two strands, framing the sides of his face.
Samuel did his best to multitask, listening to Thatcher as well as getting ready to put Argus away for the night. The horse wasn't completely compliant, but he had settled down significantly once inside the stable. Taking off Argus' bridle and other tack, he put everything away, leading the horse into his stall.
It wasn't an easy concept for him to wrap his head around. Thatcher was a Reaper? He had claimed he didn't want to kill Sammuel, but the entirety of his nature seemed to be around death. Still, he hadn't killed him yet, which had to count for something. And he had only asked for a place to stay for the night, which he had been planning on doing anyway.
"So then…what is Nike? She seemed very human when I first saw her, but she wasn't when she was defending you?" He asked, closing up the stall and fiddling with some of Argus' tack. He seemed a little uneasy around Thatcher, but he turned to glance at him, knowing that he had nothing else to do now that Argus was put away. The only thing left to do was to get Thatcher to his house…without having him get caught by any of the riled up townsfolk. It he had been the 'witch' they had been burning earlier, then there was a good chance there were people out looking for him, figuing he had escaped his death.
Thatcher hated the story of the Reapers that had been passed down throughout history. The stories of a cloaked skeleton that would come to steal your soul and bring you to hell. He was much more dignified than that. He had class, he had rules to follow. His being was not just about death- it was about protection and life as well.
At the question concerning Nike, he threw a look in her direction. “Have you heard of Cerberus from Greek mythology? She’s something like that. She’s a hellhound- a dog like creature with three heads. She can shift between forms, and humans cannot see her in this form. I found her when she was just a little pup- she was abandoned from her litter because she was the runt and now she’s here,” he explained. He hoped that would suffice for the time being.
“We really should be getting to your home. It’s not safe out here where anyone could stumble upon us,” he spoke in a hushed voice. “I may be able to change back to the crows again if the distance is short. It takes so much of my energy to do that…”
