‘I hate that crow,’ he muttered. ‘He’s not all bad,’ Brina said. ‘There are some advantages, still, from acquaintance with an animal that has the gift.’ She leaned closer and spoke quietly. ‘Craf tells me things. Mostly about the weather, or snails, or frogs,’ she shivered, pulling a sour face, ‘but sometimes I hear something a little more interesting. For example, today he has told me that he has seen something.’ She looked at him pointedly, then stared ahead. ‘He has told me of a wolven that tracks us, just out of sight. A white wolven with dark stripes on its body.’
This is breaking my heart
