IT’S DIFFICULT FOR ROSE TO DRAG HERSELF into what she knows is raven’s front door, easily sneaking past whatever drunken guards are posted at the tribe’s outskirts. it’s exactly as qrow described it so long ago to her, fog settled around the tents, outlaws everywhere, people of all sorts, and then … and then there’s raven. why is she the first person summer chooses to come out of the dark to ? maybe it has something to do with how the bird once trusted her with the knowledge of her departure, despite the night ending in summer’s tears scattered across the floor, shaking on her knees in front of raging branwen. maybe it’s the feelings that never quite exited her system, a lovesickness that no cure would be found for.
the biggest tent appears to be leader’s, naturally, and despite full intent to walk in with grand entrance, summer catches a glimpse of blackbird’s stare piercing her like an arrow from the safety of treebranches’ height. the cloak makes it obvious enough; she’s been spotted. the element of surprise is stripped from her, but raven’s always been observant to say the least.
“ what? ” rose asks, icy gaze zipping to the creature, raising an eyebrow. her voice is soft as it was in days spent in beacon’s hallways ( unthreatening, unwanting to hurt her former teammate ). from a distance, maybe it looks like a smirk — but she’s smiling ( sadly nonetheless ), nothing but overwhelming relief flooding her veins upon seeing her friend. especially after their last meeting. “ never seen a ghost before? ”
it is common for visitors to wander their way towards the infamous &. feared bandit tribe , however it is UNCOMMON for them to arrive within the gates alive &. not bleeding out like a mere wild animal. ( but one cannot kill the dead , can they ? ) she’s been watching for sometime now , through the view of a dreaded blackbird whose presence is , momentarily , hidden among the leaves &. whose wings make those very same leaves wither &. fall from their respective branches. raven branwen would be a liar ( even more so ) if she were to voice that she is not surprised of the living dead girl’s existence ; the dead cannot be brought back after all , so all she has to wonder is WHY ? why her ? why summer rose ? why now ? ( why coming back to her ? ) not a single caw nor peep whilst wilted rose weaves her way through thick fog & foliage &. eventually ( despite how much she wishes to ) through the large , heavy doors leading to camp. ( those supposed to be keeping watch disappoint her greatly , but she’ll save their scolding for another day. )
she wishes to catch summer sadness by surprise , though when those damned eyes of molten silvers rest ‘pon tattered feathers of obsidian’s kiss , she knows she cannot hide under avian guise any longer. blood chilling is the ‘ CAW ! ‘ that bellows from throat prior to her descent &. soon shall her form rise from a crouch &. loom over former partner. ❛ did you crawl from your grave JUST to see me ? or is it to HAUNT me , summer ? ❜ there’s a lump in her throat , guilt spawning vile &. raven curses &. shoves it back to belly’s depths without a hint of hesitation. she can’t stand being looked at with such sad eyes. ❛ ghosts don’t exist , you foolish little thing. ❜
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