It’s quite ironic… Melcoy was a raven… the last of his kind. He hated to think about it. The symbol of death, Raven’s had been despised since the days of the too distant path. The humans had invented a disease that wiped out nearly all of the raven population… except for him, of course.
It had destroyed his family, and left Melcoy as the lone raven, wandering the earth in search of someone who would accept him.
He flew endlessly, and even recklessly fast through the warm air. He had no where in particular to be this day, or any day for that matter, but he felt an urgency to fly and keep flying.
Most humans didn’t notice him in the air as he glided along, but for the sake of survival, he was careful about landing.
He was in a place that seemed like a desert, and feeling more depressed than ever, he landed at the edge of a small cliff. No humans for miles, just the way he liked it. But someting glimmered in the distance. The crowd of shiny black feathers approached.
“Ravens.”
He was no longer alone.