Тъмен Вечер

When Тънем's wings grew out (29th Nov, 2024
17:31) he felt a strange pull draw him to a part of the prairie not often frequented by his pack members. This pull lead him to a wolf-sized mound, unsure of what to do next he lay beside the mound and slept. When he slept he dreamt. The mound beside him moved, a peak formed and a shiny black spire poked through the earth, followed by feathers the color of tar until finally a crow stood over the wound it had made in the mound. The corvid turn to look at him and it's eyes- they were the most stunning shade of green. They considered each other, the wolf and the bird untill Тъмен awoke, the green eyes still burning in his mind. He turned and saw a mask of iridescent pitch feathers sitting on the mound, the mask of his grandmother, the leader Позлатена Кожа. He took the mask and slipped it on his face, a part of himself was unsurprised that it fit perfectly. He would wear it while he was scouting, he decided, but never near the pack, and most certainly never near his father.