“I know
you think poorly of me Corvus,” the Angel continues, “but even I
am wary of the anger of the Lord of Doors. A word of warning before
you go. His hatred for you has not dimmed with age, he will be
thorough in his search. I'd suggest you keep moving, and trust no
one but me.”
“Trust
you?” Raven replies. “I've got more sense than that.”
“Believe
it or not, it matters little right now. But I am the only friend you
have in the Weave, ironic as that may seem. Now, off you go...”
As the
Peacock Angel finishes speaking he sparkles, dissolving to nothing
and he's gone, leaving Raven to take in his surroundings. He is
sitting on the log of a felled tree, looking over a broad lake at the
edge of a pine forest.
