Raven's Flight.

[The_Nightingale]

The runes of offering are drawn in dirt. Candles are placed to form a pattern. It mimics a flight of carrion birds from that day’s dawn. An offering is placed. One of bounty of the wilds and of flesh and blood. A gemstone placed by. The shaman sets the offering alight in an eerie glow. His motions are precise, his silhouette mimics a raven in flight.

Long moments drag on and a single raven flies overhead. He lands and pecks at the offering presented. His form is enveloped by the glow and the gemstone lights up. A sojourner watches the offering with a silent gaze.

The raven takes flight, drawing a path in the veil. He returns to his masters, the hags of the deep Cloakwood. The hags will feast on the energies offered and the raven’s heart. The feral ones will be sated for a while and demand no more of the shaman.

“What is the gemstone for?” asks the sojourner. “Look closer and see.”
She leans in, gazing into the stones glowing form: “You see what the bird sees?”. The shaman nods. His senses are bound to the raven, now a feast for the crones.