[ It's likely morbid curiosity the keeps bringing Blake back to these woods, perhaps even something akin to a sickness. While he doesn't yet like a single thing he's heard from those black birds, their touchpoint to the past and to his home keep him searching; it's one tiny comfort to know the life he was forced to leave behind is worth acknowledging here in any form, but he chases it nonetheless, like a forsaken child searching for validation.
It's the sound of the birds crowing their taunts — familiar in a way that is too obvious to be coincidence — that brings him to Crane. With a bag slung over his shoulder half-laden with crystals, he glances up at one of the birds, over at Crane's pale and prone form, and then scares away the crows into dark dust with a treenut gathered from the forest floor. ]
They'll be back.
[ Figuring Crane could use the free hands to further dispel the mocking murder, he reaches to open his bag in case the doctor wants to make a deposit. ]
And they'll have somethin' to say 'bout it.
[ Is he here to save Crane? Not entirely, no, but there's a tinge of intention here where he might not have otherwise bothered. ]
no subject
It's the sound of the birds crowing their taunts — familiar in a way that is too obvious to be coincidence — that brings him to Crane. With a bag slung over his shoulder half-laden with crystals, he glances up at one of the birds, over at Crane's pale and prone form, and then scares away the crows into dark dust with a treenut gathered from the forest floor. ]
They'll be back.
[ Figuring Crane could use the free hands to further dispel the mocking murder, he reaches to open his bag in case the doctor wants to make a deposit. ]
And they'll have somethin' to say 'bout it.
[ Is he here to save Crane? Not entirely, no, but there's a tinge of intention here where he might not have otherwise bothered. ]