Raven
I find myself trekking through a forest utterly unfamiliar to me. It has an ancient feel, like it hasn’t been seen for a thousand years. Old gnarled trees rise all around and seem to be watching me. A cold mist is hanging in the air, and I smell pipe smoke.
I see an old man sitting on a log, smoking a long pipe. He looks like my father and grandfather with a long white beard. He is wearing a long black cloak, much like my grandfather wears.
He looks at me with light blue eyes and smiles, “Ah, Raven, my dear.”
I freeze, “Who are you?” I sputter.
The man rises from the log and beckons me forward, “Come, sit, my dear.”
I hesitate and stare at him.
“I won’t hurt, dear,” He says in a less friendly tone. “We have much to discuss.”
I take a deep breath and do as he says. I take a s
