[One for sorrow, two for... mirth? Joy? It seems unlikely at the moment, but who knows. The story's not done yet.]
This your tree?
[She's perched on the roof of the little house, crouching down as she balances on the balls of her feet, on the corner where the house almost but not quite meets the tree. She's woman and raven and both and neither, with her dark feather cloak and black-beaked mask, head tilted curiously.]
no subject
[One for sorrow, two for... mirth? Joy? It seems unlikely at the moment, but who knows. The story's not done yet.]
This your tree?
[She's perched on the roof of the little house, crouching down as she balances on the balls of her feet, on the corner where the house almost but not quite meets the tree. She's woman and raven and both and neither, with her dark feather cloak and black-beaked mask, head tilted curiously.]
It's a good tree. Grown real big.