Quoth The Raven [GM/Asiv/Asssignment]

[Zack Asiv]

Wren's hands would feel warm and begin to glow as she moved around and she would hear the chiming cease.

"On the morrow, the Coyote shall leave me."

["Wren"]

Wren stared down at the necklace, bewildered by the sudden warm glow emanating from it's place along the protrusion of her collarbone. The words the hooded figure spoke came back to her in a rush, and the chimes ceased.

...well that was ominous.

Unnerved, Wren clutched the necklace tighter, as though willing it to stop whatever it was doing, unsure of what else to do.

[Zack Asiv]

And three soft knocks would be heard at her front door, the warmth and glow ceasing.

["Wren"]

The glow faded and Wren sighed with relief. Oh, thank satan.

Then the door knocked, three times. Wren stared at the wood door for a moment, perturbed. Delilah. It was just Del, coming to get her for lunch at --she glanced left at the stove clock-- ....ten thirty six.

Swallowing hard, the goth's feet seemed to move of their own accord as she approached the door. Rather than opening it, she stood on tip toe to peer through the peep hole, holding her breath.

[Zack Asiv]

Wren peers into deep, dark blackness, an endless sear of dark.

["Wren"]

Black. Nothing but black.

In the middle of Southern California in broad daylight, outside her door was nothing but the void of darkness.

"On the morrow, the Coyote shall leave me"

Wren glared furiously at the door, breathing rapidly through flared nostrils. She grabbed the door handle. Not afraid. She wasn't afraid of what was behind this door. She wasn't fucking afraid--

Wren twisted the knob and flung open the door.

[Zack Asiv]

It is a bright and sunny day outside, a good old California early afternoon breeze, with the light smell of the ocean in the background.

["Wren"]

Wren stood in the doorway, blinking at the sunlight and seething. See. Nothing. Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing was even there. Peep hole must be blocked.

But whatever the shit was going on better piss off because she was three hundred percent done with that shit.

Huffing once in irritation, Wren shut the door and turned to walk back into the kitchen, trying to ignore the wobbling in her knees.

[Krane Asiv]

And there he stood. The Coyote, a mask made much like that of native american craftsmanship to appear as a Coyote face, covered a seemingly tan skinned man, holding a staff with iron rings at the end, clattering a bit. He wore no shirt, but had on some odd skin pants and leather shoes. He was adorned with odd paints and feathers. His face, locked onto Wren, in silence, until Wren would hear again.

"As my hopes have flown before."

A new warmth would come from the feather, this one however, seemed to feel... Protective of Wren.

["Wren"]

Wren started, taking a half step back before she nearly walked into the bare, broad chest of the tall, masked man. She looked up, slowly, facing the holes in his mask with her own alarmed gaze. Her breath caught in her throat and she backed up a pace, eyes darting to the clanking staff he carried, the source of the sound she had heard before.

He quoted Poe down at her and Wren's eyes shot back to the mask, a frown creasing the lines of her face. The necklace she bore started to glow, and this time, Wren made no move to stifle it. The threat from the Coyote(?) was palpable, but unspoken. What it wanted, Wren did not know, and nor did she care. She was done with freaks ruining her day.

...Though, apparently she was now one of them.

She thought fast; Down the hall to her left was the back door. If she could get to it, she could sprint into Del's backyard. For the moment though, Wren jerked a defiant brow up at the Coyote.

And then the bird said, "Nevermore."

As soon as the word left her lips, Wren found her legs and made an attempt to sprint back into the kitchen and down the hall toward the back door.

[Krane Asiv]

As Wren would make a run for it her path would be blocked by the Coyote, however at the word Nevermore the feather would explode into it's mass of black feathers covering Wren in the cloak from before, and when the staff struck Wren it wouldn't hurt, and then the cloak would explode and the feathers would grab the Coyote and carry him away vanishing mush like the creature at the docks.

Wren would be alone, with the feather.

["Wren"]

Everything happened so quickly; As soon as the last syllable fell from her lips she felt another burst of black feathers cascade around her and became like a swirling cloak, protecting her from the blow of the Coyote's staff as he blocked her path, though she still cried out pre-emptively, as though the blow had landed. Then the curtain of black feathers leapt from around her shoulders, grabbing the coyote and spiriting him away until she was alone.

Wren dropped to her knees, sitting between the main hall and her kitchen, dainty fingers reaching up to feel her rapid pulse. Once it slowed, she let her shaky hand drop to the necklace around her neck.

It... had saved her? Was it imbued with the presence of the hooded creature? What did this mean, exactly?

Wren swallowed, glancing up again to make sure she was alone. Clutching the raven feather in her hand, the name, the word, filtered past her lips on a shallow breath.

"Nevermore?"

[Krane Asiv]

She would get a response!

"For I am injured."

["Wren"]

There it was again. The voice, the words, the lines of the poem. Remembering what she did the last time those words were uttered, Wren closed her eyes and held the necklace in both her hands, this time actively seeking the strange silver glow that shimmered over her pale skin, and pushed her energy into the pendant.

[Krane Asiv]

Wren would see the creature without the feather cloak, and a wound on the shoulder that was healing.

"The Coyote will be back one day. I will not. But you may keep my feather, for you shall be The Raven. If you have questions seek out The Gods. Show them the feather. Thank you, be free."