Ol' Flint the Crow

Taking a Quick Rest

...Still partially conscious, Samuel felt Bleak's strong arms hoisting him up. The minstrel could only hear his heart beating like a drum, but he sensed the voice of Flint desperately squawking orders to the barmaid as they walked. The wind died out, causing Samuel to assume they had taken some sort of shelter. Splashes of water struck the minstrel's face, making him come to.

"Ugh..." he groaned.

Gazing around, he saw that they had entered a small cave. He stared up and saw Miss Bleak holding a canteen over him. Her concern expression was lovely to wake up to.

Samuel smile gleefully as he said in a daze, "You know, you look exceptionally beautiful when you're mothering over someone."

"Gods!" The barmaid's face quickly became rigid. "The flute player's definitely alive, Flint. Not for long though, if he can't learn to shut up!"

Flint scurried into view. He was shaking all over, causing his feathers to ruffle terribly. However, the sight of Samuel alive and well brought him relief.

The crow sighed, "Thank goodness! Phew! You gave me such a scare there, Mr. Samuel. I thought I lost you for a moment. How do you feel?"

"A little weak," Samuel admitted.

Scrunching up his beak, Flint gazed around the cavern and said, "We might have to spend the night here. Not my ideal location; we're still much too close to the Blood Bather's home. The sheriffs will search the area soon. But no matter. We'll have to make do."

"No," groaned the minstrel. Not wanting to be a burden more than he was already, he attempted to lift himself up in spite of his fatigue. "I can manage a few miles, honest."

However, Bleak pushed him down while Flint spoke, "We're all tired. Please, just rest! You need your strength. We'll get to Planker's Creek in time. I swear it to you, Samuel! But you need to-"

In a flash, Flint's eye shot out. Grabbing the hilt of his rapier the bird squawked at Bleak to ready her crossbow. The crow suddenly turned to face the entrance of the cave, their only way out, and shouted, "Who's every out there, show yourself! I'm not in the mood for games!"

From the corners of the cave, out crawled five wolves led by The Grey One who slunk into the tunnel towards Flint.

"If you and your ilk want to die just after I freed you, I'm all too obliged to do so!" squawked the bird, his rapier flashed in the air.

Bowing low and ordering his companions to do the same, The Grey One vocalized with great difficulty, "No! Wolves not here to fight. Wolves here to thank... Flint!" They humbly extended out their paws and lowered their heads to the dirt. "Wolves thought wrong of you. Alpha was wrong. That's why wolves leave Alpha... long time ago. But Blood Bather found us. Caged us. Then Flint saved us! Saved my family! Flint is good bird! Not bad bird, like Alpha say."

"The Alpha's dead!" Flint snapped, not letting go of his weapon. "I killed him myself just a few days ago."

For a moment the pack of wolves shook like leaves in a winter wind storm, astonished at what they had just heard. However, they regained their composure and nodded their heads. "That good. No more tyrant killing wolf brethren. Wolves free to breed and increase in numbers. No longer a dying breed... we wolves."

Flint bit his tongue. He couldn't bring himself to say anything more, fearing that the wolves would retaliate if they knew the full story. Instead, he just gestured for the wolves to leave.

"G-go back to Burrowed Canyon," the crow could scarcely speak. "If you are to become bountiful throughout these lands again, you must keep your kind safe. Go! I rather not be bothered by any of you again... Scram!!!"