Tale of The Raven

As Jonathan wandered home, he took a trail he’d never stepped on before. He was returning from a pointless day of hunting, and carried his shotgun on his back. The summer had been dry, and the fields had yielded little food, so it was his duty to put food on the table. As he looked above and around, the array of fall colors swirled around him, and he watched as a raven flew about the torrent of autumn wind. It cried out as it dipped and dived, aimlessly it seemed, until when he followed it’s trail, it landed on the open path in front of him. The bird cocked it’s head at him, and squawked a few times, before taking a few steps toward Jonathan, who now stood frozen in curiosity. The bird squawked again, only this time, it spoke. Jonathan stumbled back at first, and wondered what it was he had really heard, but couldn’t make anything of the faint mumbling. He stared intently at the bird, and it squawked like any other. He sighed, and was relieved that he had only heard his own mind, but as he continued his walk, the bird didn’t move. He stopped once more, the distance between them a mere fifteen feet, and the bird crowed louder now, and Jonathan could hear what it said.

“Caw! I want your eyes! Caw!” the creature spoke, cocking it’s head at Jonathan, who stumbled back a few feet, and looked at the bird with fear now. He stepped backwards as the bird stepped quicker toward him,

“CAW! I want you eyes! CAW!” It screeched louder now. The bird quickened it’s pace, and got louder with every step.

“CAW! I WANT YOUR EYES JONATHAN! CAW!” And this time the bird sprung into flight, headed straight for Jonathan’s face. It spun as it approached, and cawed one last time before it flew, straight into, the large blast of gun shot that rang out from the barrel of Jonathan’s gun. The bird collapsed, and all was silent. It quivered on the gravel road before him, until it finally stopped twitching and lie dead at his feet. He looked around, and the wind had stopped the leaves from fluttering, and he bent over to pick up the bird. He grabbed it’s feet with thumb and forefinger, and carried it all the way home. When he walked in the door he announced to his wife,

“Margery, I’ve brought us dinner,” He said, as he dropped the bird onto the counter top, and took off his boots, lay his gun on the table, and stretched. His wife came into the kitchen, and looked at the large bird on the counter, and said,

“Well, this will have to do,” And so she plucked, skinned, and boiled the bird in a stew for their dinner that night. And it was the best dinner that either one of them had tasted in so long, that they ate it all up that night. Which meant only one thing, Jonathan would have to hunt again the next day.

So, that next day, he rose early, put on his boots, shouldered his gun, and walked out the door to go hunt. All was peaceful, until he approached the area where he had shot the bird the night before. He looked around him, and on every branch of every tree, perched a stately raven, all eyes following him, staring intently upon him as he walked. He hung his head until the first sound. A faint whisper.

“Is that him?” The shy voice asked. Jonathan stopped, and looked around. All the birds stared upon him.
“Yeah, he’s the one that killed Bill...” said another voice. Jonathan refused to believe what was happening at first, until he saw the birds beak open, and the words come fluently out. He turned to keep walking, but was stopped by a wall of ravens that stood on the ground in front of him. He turned to look behind him, and it was the same. Another voice said something inaudible, and one single bird walked up to Jonathan and said,

“Why did you kill our friend?”

“Because he was going to kill me!” Replied Jonathan, looking down in complete disbelief at the bird.

“But he just wanted your eyes, not your entire body, not like what you did to Bill,”

“My family was to starve, and he was going to kill me!” The bird cocked it’s head and squawked, before flying rapidly up to Jonathan’s face, causing him to stumble back, and fall down. Before he even had time to scream, the birds were upon him, all but the one that had spoken to him. It looked fondly at the tree’s, and looked to another bird that sat perched on a high branch and said,

“Dearest, I’ve brought dinner!”

The End.