Rain has fallen this chilly Bree morning. Gloom and fog seep through the village. Somewhere in the distance a horse neighs as he struggles to pull a cart with mud caked wheels. The smell of sogginess permeates the day. A raven, black as a pupil, alights in the eave of Adele's Vegetable Store. She'll be there until the down poor gives up. She shivers against the breeze and pulls her wings close to her body.
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