"What odd fragrance stuns me here - /
Fresh decay and shades of fear..."
Southern World, c. 1999: When a clairvoyant crow discovers human remains in the woods, he enlists the help of a girl to stop the sinister force behind the killings.
Once a body decomposes, Striking smells will pique keen noses. Gifted creatures sharp with flair Catch the scents far in the air — Cues from carrion beyond Carried on the death-wind's song. To you humans, such a gust Shakes you back with foul distrust. But we beaks of blackened steel Flock towards that promised meal.
There had lived a creature so, Half a raven, half a crow, Sharpest talent of his day, Sensing death from miles away, Catching scents others could not — Future perfumes, ancient rot. Clouds of knowledge filled his days — Spectral notes in mystic haze.
He detected something strange — Something different in his range, Something that was not quite right, Stalling him amid his flight:
"What odd fragrance stuns me here — Fresh decay and shades of fear, Not a deer but not a dog, Not a horse and not a hog. Blood once warm, hairs once of health — Not of fox or feline stealth. ...Something else — a blur of sweat, Fabrics damp and fibres wet... Like a field of running boys Chasing after orbic toys. ...Could this be a human dead? Ended after having fled? Buried in the shallow dust, Drifting, rising in this gust? O what riddle, O what skies — I must land and analyse..."
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