Song of the Shifters

The Raven

As Light traversed the meandering dirt path that wound through the dense forest toward the gorge, she couldn't help but notice the distinctly "primal" nature that had settled over this land. Here, all remnants of modern life seemed to have been rewound, not entirely, but certainly enough to be unmistakable. At the heart of Cascadia, nestled near the southern edge of the gorge, lay a small village where life harked back to simpler times. The villagers inhabited rustic log cabins, each resembling the other in a quaint symphony of uniformity.

Yet, there were a few like Light who had willingly chosen the untamed wilderness over the comforts of civilization, forging a bond with the wilds that surrounded them.

Ferals, that's what they labeled individuals like Light, and it often led to her being ostracized. However, that wasn't the only reason. In her solitary existence, Light had only one true confidant, a friend named Crawford.

Crawford was a steadfast companion to Light, the kind of person who would willingly venture into the perilous wilderness just because it sounded like a fun idea. They shared a bond so strong that the odd looks from others scarcely registered on their radar. Yet, Crawford possessed a reserved and aloof demeanor, not inclined to delve into the intricacies of Light's troubles or recall all their inside jokes. He might not be the type to provide solutions to her problems or fully comprehend her concerns, but he always lent a listening ear. For Light, that was more than enough.

Just as Light was about to call out for him, she spotted a figure waving to her from across the circular road at the heart of the village. It took only a moment for her to recognize him. He had a strikingly pale complexion, his jet-black hair spiked in a distinctive contrast to his alabaster skin. His eyes held an arresting shade of gold, a feature not entirely uncommon in the fantastical realm of Riptide Gorge. The young man was garbed in a long, black coat adorned with pockets and an assortment of tools neatly fastened to his belt.

That was unmistakably Crawford, always a distinctive figure in any crowd. Light quickened her pace to reach him, and as she drew near, she couldn't help but marvel at the sight of his large, obsidian-feathered wings extending from his back.

Like many inhabitants of Riptide Gorge, Crawford was what they referred to as a 'shifter,' individuals with the unique ability to shapeshift, but limited to a single animal form. In his case, he was a raven, and often chose to take this form on his travels.

Light often found herself on the receiving end of odd looks or even outright shunning due to her profoundly unusual characteristics. In Riptide Gorge, it was common for residents to exhibit animalistic features like ears, tails, or wings. However, Light was an exception, a rarity thought to be mythical in nature. She bore the striking traits of a dragon, a creature far from the norm in this fantastical realm. Her back bore the weight of imposing, light blue-scaled wings, her head adorned with long, graceful horns, and her tail, a magnificent fusion of spikes and feathers. What set her apart wasn't just the fact that she possessed human and animal elements, but that she was a dragon, a being beyond the realms of common understanding. It made her a subject of not only curiosity but also perplexity among the residents of Riptide Gorge.

Snapping out of her reverie, she took a step forward and enveloped Crawford in a tight embrace, her arms wrapped securely around his waist. She had to rise on her toes to reach him, as he stood a bit taller than her. She felt the comforting sweep of his wing as it settled on her back, eliciting a warm smile from her.

"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and affection.

Crawford replied matter-of-factly, "Out hunting, as usual," as he loosened his grip on Light, allowing her to step back from their embrace.

"Yeah, I know that," Light replied with a hint of playfulness. "But you've been away longer than usual this time. It gets pretty lonely down where I live, you know. You're usually back much earlier."

"Well..." Crawford hesitated for a moment, then continued, "I've been doing some research, talking to Saxon... and a few other things," he replied cryptically.

Saxon. Light wrinkled her nose in distaste. She didn't know him personally, but Crawford never seemed to stop talking about him. She had gathered from Crawford that Saxon was perpetually engrossed in his books, particularly those concerning the history of Riptide Gorge, its enigmatic deities, and the intricate tapestry of its inhabitants. Saxon, however, had quite the reputation for his less-than-pleasant demeanor and his penchant for snapping at people with little provocation.

"Oh," Light finally said with a hint of teasing. "You and your research." Crawford shared her passion for delving into the gorge's history and its origins. Like the other ravens in Ravenfall, he was quite the book enthusiast and had amassed an impressive collection in his cabin back home. Fortunately, he hadn't succumbed to the level of being a bookworm that Saxon was known for.

Crawford fell momentarily silent, his nervous shuffling betraying his uncertainty. "I can't shake the feeling that this place is too good to be true, Light," he admitted. "Despite the few drawbacks, such as the reversal of modern conveniences, it all feels almost too perfect. It doesn't sit right with me. There has to be something more at play here, don't you think?"

Light fell briefly silent herself, mulling over Crawford's words. "Sounds pretty far-fetched to me," she finally responded, noticing Crawford's disappointment as he lowered his head. He never took well to being contradicted. Light chuckled softly, extending her hand to pat his shoulder apologetically. "I'm not saying you're wrong," she reassured him, "It does feel like this place has been here for ages, and there's probably a reason behind it. But curses? You talk about curses a lot, and I just can't imagine the gods would do that to us."

Crawford started to reach for his satchel, but then hesitated, as if reconsidering. Light thought he might be about to pull out a history book to make his case but decided against it to avoid annoying her. Instead, he spoke thoughtfully, "You'd be surprised, Light. The gods here do not tolerate any form of blasphemy or disrespect. And more often than not, the consequences can be quite dire."

Light fidgeted uneasily, not particularly inclined towards religious discussions. She did hold beliefs in the gods, but Crawford's constant chatter about gods and curses had started to wear on her. "I mean, yeah," she mumbled, "But... I guess we'll find out when we find out. Not to be a jerk, Crawford, but I'd rather not talk about it right now." She offered him an apologetic smile, hoping he'd understand her reluctance to delve into the topic at that moment.

Talking about the origin of the gorge always made the dragon uncomfortable. There were too many unsettling stories surrounding its history, and discussing it inevitably stirred up a sense of anxiety within her.

"I understand," Crawford replied in acceptance, though a subtle pout lingered in his expression for a moment. Soon, he managed a smile and adjusted his coat. Then, in a swirl of large black smoke, he transformed into the shape of a raven in a matter of seconds, per his usual preference. Classic Crawford, he always favored this form.

Crawford stretched his wings and looked up at Light. "Hey, why don't we head back to Ravenfall? Come over to my place and have some coffee."

"I can't pass that up," Light smiled and nodded in agreement.