Crows in a tree Aak fictionspawn

Gathering of the Crows

On a treetop in the country side the crows had gathered. All the clans in the area was represented. They had come from the hills, from the oat fields, from the city. Once there had been only one clan, living by the same rules, the same way. Now only the hill clans kept the ways of the old.

Their ways were threatened.

-The destruction by the Handed Ones have reached the limits of the Hill Crows’ territory. The trees are dying. Our prey are more and more scarce.

-We live off the Handed Ones, Blue said. He was the spokesman of the Scavengers, one of the city clans. – You are welcome to come to the city, but I must warn you. It’s not a good way of life. What seemed to be a never ending source of food and resources have turned out to be the doom of our ways, our dignity. Disease is flourishing, rats are ravaging our nests… (more)

A paintbrush making a line. Aak fictionspawn

The Perfect Self Portrait

He took a long look in the mirror, got the next stroke on. It was perfect. Slowly the self portrait was taking form. It looked more alive than anything he’d ever painted before, anything he’d ever seen. Every new stroke made it better, every next step made it more real.

He studied every little detail in the mirror, every little colour, every last wrinkle, every shadow. It looked real. More than real. More real than reality itself.

Darkness through the window. Aak fictionspawn

A Good Night’s Sleep

It had been raining for days. A lot. He was cold and wet. All his things were as well.

The clouds and the rain made the night dark, and with a strike of luck he saw a barn in a lightning flash. The roof was leaking, but he found a dry spot in a corner. There were even some old sacks he could sleep under.

His wet clothes were hanging to dry, and he snuck naked under the dry sacks. It felt good. Last night he had been trying to sleep under some bushes, but the rain had made it impossible. It had been hard.

A roar woke him up…