Bran Davies, home from Cardiff for the holidays, has had some opportunity to rest from the stresses of the fall term. It is not entirely peaceful at home, though. The Dysynni valley, some hours north of Cardiff, is much closer to the fires than Bran's university, and the people of Clwyd Farm have been grim and thoughtful lately
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Comments 28
But he does refrain from glittering Bran as soon he walks through the door.
Instead, he drops down from the rafters in a flurry of black feathers, human-shaped head tilting as his feet hit the floor.
"Bran."
Black eyes are bright and amused as he looks at Bran.
"Things go?"
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"Raven," Bran says, looking at Raven through cold golden eyes. "So kind of you to come and say hello."
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"Perhaps."
He tilts his head a little farther, black eyes wide and bright.
"But I am, I think, not so good at kind. So."
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"Excuse me, brother" he said quickly, "I recognize your voice, Bran Davis? How do you fair?" Tegid's blindfold had slipped a little.
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