(no subject)
[Quiet still despite the clamor of the goddess's crows, danger looming just over the horizon and when Fallen and Mist ask him if he wants to go out into the town with them, he just shakes his head. No, thank you, it's quiet here, I'm happy here. He sits curled up on the porch swing, almost warm in a beam of late-winter light. Mist had brought a blanket out for him, they'd smiled as he'd spread it out. Jast curls up under it peaceably now.
The unsuspecting earth stirs in its peaceful ways, the faint rickety movement of bare branches, the crystal sounds of amber-sap in their wood, fish stirring sluggishly in the bayou. And always the crows overhead... Jast listens to their songs and gathers strength.]