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Raven and his bird
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Raven's Musings

Raven left the Elders Lodge into the cool dark of nightwith his jaw locked tight and his hooded eyes like slits. He smiled a private malicious smile. They had been forced to allow him some authority when choosing the search party.  After all; who had the expertise he had when it came to seamanship and the lay of the land? And who had a tame raven at his beck and call?  Then they had had to show him some respect!  He held his head high as he stood there, taking in the fresh night air as he headed home.

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The searchers would be mainly from the Skeena and Limpet Clans as only made sense since they knew the water best.  The only inlander was that ridiculous Perri whose brother Cranberry was one of the lost traders.  What good a logger would do on this mission Raven couldn’t see but Perri had insisted.  They had Captain Razor, Crusta, a tracker and himself from the Limpets.  Roots and Baneberry, both fishermen from the Skeena.  And, of course Douglas of the same with that silly seagull of his, Gus. All Gus was interested in was eating.  Doug didn’t know how to train a bird like Raven did.  Discipline!  That was the way to do it.

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I suppose, thought Raven with a sigh of resignation that I’ll have to end up calling for Blacky, my raven.  He was willing to accept the necessity. But I won’t offer him up easily; make them grovel and beg him.  He growled under his breath.  He could care less what happened to that Snail fool who’d made a laughing stock of him all those years back He had commissioned Snail to carve his likeness for the prow of his ship; a proud, magnificent face, chin held high, leading his ship on its many journeys. What had arrived was a carving depicting him as a pompous and arrogant overlord.  They had all tittered with laughter upon seeing it, and he had refused to pay up. Snail took it to the Elders Council and all had agreed it was indeed an accurate depiction of Raven and he had had to pay Snail. Was that how they saw him?  Raven had burned it almost immediately after the meeting, but its image was vivid in his memory.  No, he held no love for Snail.

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Cranberry was a different sort; quiet, respectful and a hard worker.  Made great tools.  He had a lovely wife and his children were well behaved.  That showed discipline. Yes, a good man with a lovely wife.

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Then he fumed as he thought back to yesterday when he had come home a little drunk and angry; broken a chair in a rage and had scared his cringing wife, Phlox.  She had packed a bag and left to ‘stay with relatives’’ without even serving him dinner!  There would be no dinner waiting for him tonight either.  How dare she leave him!

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Was it worth the trek home tonight to his cold house?  He’d have to be back early in the morning for the search party.  No, he’d stay with some lucky family member tonight. He face screwed into a crooked satisfying smile and hacked out his scratchy laugh that could easily have been mistaken for a rough cough in anyone else.

 

He turned back to the town and was surprised to see that preposterous, shallow little wife of Perri; Mouse, was it?  Mus?  He couldn’t remember, but she was calling his name, waving him down. Irritation flooded him like a waterfall..  He glowered in her direction.  Now what did this nasty woman want?

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