Old Crow stirred against frost covered rocks.

His dreams were feverish. He has been many birds over many lifetimes. In his dream he is small and fragile, fighting for scraps in the far north.

He remembered being so panic-stricken to find food he’d gone feverish and mad.

Digging deeper and deeper in the snow in hopes of a crumb of seed.

Deeper and deeper…

Labels: Fresh Gravel For Your Craw, ghost, Inktober, Inktober Day 4, Old Crow, Pentel