Music: WOLFSONG by Denny Schneidemesser

"Stop poking him!" Dane's voice filtered through the murk of my tired mind.

"I'm not poking him; I'm just nudging him to wake him up." A new voice answered.

"Leave him alone! I found him."

"So? He's not yours; he's not anyone's."

"Father! Mother! Sade's at it again!"

"Get lost, Dane."

My eyes peeled open as a short pink finger closed in on my head. I looked beyond and saw a little girl, not unlike Dane. Instinctively, I cawed.

"He's awake!" Sade said excitedly.

"Mother!" Dane yelled.

"Shut up, you telltale!"

I heard heavy footfalls nearing, followed by a throaty growl. "What's going on here you two?"

"Sade is bothering the raven, father. She won't listen," Dane explained.

I heard an exasperated sigh. "Sade, you should know better. Wounded beasts need rest to heal."

"He's had almost two days father," the girl replied. "He will need to eat, or he will not have enough strength to fly, mended wing or no."

Two days? Had I lain in this box for two days? Weak as I felt, I shuffled my legs beneath me, bracing myself, and pushed up. I clicked my beak a few times, frustrated that it took me four attempts to rise, albeit shakily.

Once I was up, I was startled by the young girl clapping excitedly. Just like Dane, her hair was black, but it framed her face in soft ringlets. Bright blue eyes the same too.

Finally, it dawned on me. They were the Newbery twins. Their father Zachary and mother Ellen, both Gilneans had been kind neighbours to Sarah and me, welcoming us when we first moved in but they were never intrusive individuals.

The whole family was now in front of me.

"Well ain't you a chipper looking one?" Ellen said, smiling at me. 

I felt anything but 'chipper', but there was no denying I was much improved. I jumped onto the rim of the box, wobbling until I found my balance.

Automatically I opened my wings and flinched slightly at the tightness I felt under my left one. I nuzzled my beak underneath it, inspecting the wound. It had healed quite remarkably, the herb-infused salve having indeed worked wonders.

The test, of course, would be when I tried to fly. My body still ached, the battering from the tree limbs having awarded me many bruises which were still tender. 

For now, hadn't there been the mention of food? I cawed and looked at Ellen, expectantly.

I heard a small chuckle to my right. Dane stood, his fingers toying with his mouth as he giggled. Sade reached out to stroke my chest. I clicked my beak, and she shrank back but then, after a moment, reached forward again. 

"I think he wants food, mother," she said, turning her bright blues up to Ellen.

"Aye, I dare say he does. Bring him through then." She turned and led the way. Dane stepped forward and offered his arm for me to alight, and I accepted gladly.

As we moved through the house, I took in the surroundings. 

We vacated an area which had been surrounded by glass; a greenhouse by all accounts. Pots and trays lined shelving; some were empty while a few had small shoots sprouting, others still, boasted full-grown plants. 

The air was sweet, the smell of rich earth and myriad flora ranging from pungent herbs such as Goldthorn, Lichbloom, Mountain Sage to more candied exotic blooms such as Talandra's Rose, Heartblossom, Rain Poppy and Golden Lotus. The combination was altogether analgesic, calmative and most pleasing. 

I made a mental note to inform Sarah of our neighbours' floricultural talents.

The living quarters were spacious, well-appointed and welcoming. Very much in keeping with their roots;  the Gilnean decor was rustic - deep reds, browns, teal and ochres. Reminiscent of the old life behind the high wall of Gilneas, its earthy and basic foundations also possessed an ambience of warmth, peace and tranquillity. 

Back in the kitchen, Ellen cut up some fresh fruit then placed it on a tin plate with some grain. She slid the banquet in front of me. I looked up at each of the faces, all of which watched me with quiet regard.

"Go ahead, boy, eat!" Zachary encouraged.

No need to tell me twice! I had no idea of just how hungry I was until I took the first bite of the peach. Its sweetness was like nectar to a bee, sublime. I ate with vigour.

The children were laughing as bits of grain pinged about the dish and table, but I was so enjoying the delicious food to care about my table manners. As I ate, Ellen inspected my wing.

"He is healing nicely," she said.

"Will he be able to fly?" Dane asked.

"I would think so, yes."

"I will put him atop the garden wall then," Zachary announced.

"So soon?" Sade wailed. "Can't we keep him a bit longer?"

Ellen laughed softly. "No, Sade. He belongs in the wild. He should be free."

The young girl sighed heavily. Then her voice brightened a little. "Maybe he will visit us for breakfast and dinner."

"Maybe he will," Ellen said, with a smile.

A silence ensued before I heard Zachary ask Dane what was wrong. I looked up from my meal, my beak covered in soft fruity flesh and grain. 

The boy looked sad. His eyes met mine, and I watched as a tiny tear threatened. 

"I guess..." he gulped, "... deep down, I kept hoping he was perhaps... You know? Him. He was such a nice man, and I liked him."

The boy's father placed an arm around his son's young shoulders. "Aye, the Archmage was a good and a kind man."

"He promised to show us some magic tricks when he returned from the war," Sade said quietly. "I was looking forward to that." She sniffed.

I felt a stab of pain at the girl's words. I could not recall making such a promise, but I swore there, and then, if I could resume my human self, I would indeed put on a little magic show for them.

Ellen smiled wistfully. "I shall look in on Sarah soon. It is too early to call upon her today; it is her first day back in their home since the requiem."

My appetite instantly dulled. I had missed my funeral!