Cadman took his quiver, bow, dagger, and the most protective clothes he possessed as he opened the door of the cottage. “Where are you going?” his wife asked.
“Where do you think?” Cadman responded, “I’m going to find our boy. Stay here, and I’ll be home soon.”. His wife merely nodded, wished him luck, and Cadman set off on his journey. He knew a Blackling trail when he saw one, and this was no different. He followed the trail, and thus began his hunt for the first quarry he didn’t intend to kill, his own son.
Calum rested in the trees for a minute. The stars were really quite beautiful overhead, but he couldn’t think of them. He knew that the woods were at their most dangerous at night, and it certainly seemed like it. The wind rustled in the trees, and they sounded almost like furtive whispers. Calum froze, and listened closer. They were whispers.
He then looked and saw them. Blacklings, they were nearby, looking for him. As quietly as he could, he climbed as high into the canopy as he could, and hid amongst the leaves, praying that they wouldn’t see him. Luckily, they didn’t. He passed the entire night by in an alert half-sleep, but when he rose, he saw something peculiar.
A crow was perched on his knee in front of him, its glossy black eyes fixed intently on him. As Calum looked at the bird more closely, and moved his knee, the crow didn’t move. The crow suddenly flew off his knee, and landed on a tree not too far away. It looked back to Calum expectantly, as though it wanted to be followed. Calum was suspicious, but seeing as he was completely lost, he decided it was best to take this gamble. So, reluctantly, he climbed to the tree upon which the crow was perched, upon which the crow flew over to another nearby tree and waited, and again, Calum pursued.