#crow posts

In the dark night of the cabin home of the hybrid, outside in the forest woods, deep in the far back area, rustling in grass and dirt, Crow sat there, at least, some alternate version of her, clearly hunting and eating down some form of prey that the hybrid can munch on, Crow turned, staring at the person approaching, white eyes staring through the fluffy feathers with a animal like glance, tail puffed up and wings stretched, concerned and confused on whether to fight or run, for that matter how the hell did some find her. Clearly, some people haven’t seen her like this, and she didn’t know whether to stick around and find out some reaction.

-My friends, today, claiming it was a motivational quote.

Bonus: “Mr Wrong is flying.”