Getting on the horse pained him so much he nearly couldn't hide it. Erean avoided looking back at the rest of his party while the muscles in his legs cramped so hard the tendons felt like lute strings. He couldn't be more sure that they knew, now. He couldn't hide it anymore. But he still couldn't bear to look at their faces.

He'd watched Rannok writhe all night, sweat glimmering across his forehead, lit by the fire in the dark. He'd felt for him, even if he didn't feel sorry for him. He'd been warned. They were close, now. Erean was certain they could all feel it. It settled into his bones like a pleasant weight as the crow flittered from tree to tree above them, alight with activity.

"Are you frightened?"

The crow's voice was dreamlike, and for once it soothed, rather than frightened. He chuckled and adjusted the head on his hat. Perhaps soon, there would be a solution to his problem. The travel would be over along with his pain. At any rate, the crow could bring them no further harm, once they got to the nesting site.

"Maybe I cannot," the crow said. Erean did not allow himself to worry. He reminded himself that his family was waiting. They'd welcome him back with open arms, whether he found a solution or not. They'd hold his hands and rub his legs when they stiffened and comfort him until the time came that he could not stand. He didn't expect the creature to understand.

"I do not care if you live or die," it said. "I care for my family, as you do. For my friends, as you do. I do not care about human suffering or wants."

"Not even for the boy?"

He sensed the crow's hesitation for only a moment before it replied. "Not even for the boy."

He glanced back over his horse's rump. Rannok had lost the pained look in his eyes, but he stared ahead as if followed by a ghost. What impetus the boy had for coming, he still wasn't sure. He'd really only asked him out of pity., he hadn't expected that he'd say yes. 

He held onto the reins so stiffly he worried his fingers may stick that way when they stopped. The canopy grew greener and more lively as they traveled. The trees got closer together, leaves stuck to one another with dew. A mist hung in the air, like the one in horizon, but heavier, and cooler. 

A buzzing began to travel up his horse's legs and into Erean's core. He wasn't quite sure if it came from the earth, or the air itself. And the crow's excitement grew. It grew until he could scarcely stop its mind from bleeding into his. Rannok came forward and pressed his palm to Patches' shoulder.

"Can you feel it?"

Erean nodded. He opened and closed his hands, to assure himself that they still worked. He'd need them, he was sure of it. He'd need his legs, too, though he could figure that out when the time came. He gave Rannok a smile that was meant to be kind, rather than patronizing.

"You are going to ask for your wings to be gone, so you can go home."

"I was, anyway," Rannok said. "How did you know?"

"I've heard the legends, same as you." He thought back to the book, and to the drawing of the man's bloody back and his newly emerged wings. To the crow that floated in the corner of the page with a smudged inscription underneath. Rannok ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to ask them anything," he said.

"I'm not either. But alas, if I don't, I will die. You simply will have to live without wings. It's not a difficult choice." His eyes watered. If he failed, he still was not sure if he would see his family again. He didn't know if he could even make it back to Horizon without help, and it was help he could not ask them to give.

He watched Sasha's head bob as she swayed with her horse's movement. She never seemed to notice how much danger they were in, though Erean wasn't certain whether or not she was pretending. He envied that strength.

"She likes you," Erean said.

Rannok nodded. "I know."

"Don't leave her out here," Erean replied, though he already knew Rannok would not. Rannok was far too kind. Too kind sometimes for his own safety. Kind enough to let foreign entities into his mind without thinking of the consequences, and to follow a broken man into the forest without question.

The boy's fist tightened in the horse's mane. His shoulders stiffened, and his chest rose and fell with a heaving breath. "Do you get the feeling like something's going to happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"The bird," Rannok said. "Last night. I thought it was going to kill me. It wants something there, I don't know what. I don't think it can go far, though. It's tied to me, somehow."

"It wants its family," Erean replied. "Just like you do. It will probably dissipate when we get closer." The last part felt far too much like wishful thinking, but he had to hold on to something lest the fear take him before they even met the crows.

Rannok let go of the horse's mane, fluffed his wings out, and stood up straight in an attempt to hide the darkness that still pooled in his eyes. In his body, he barely looked past twenty, but those eyes were far older. Far enough older that Erean was always afraid to ask.

"I don't think I'm asking it to take my wings," he said. He set his mouth in a hard line, and then walked forward, away from Erean's horse, before he could ask more questions. Erean sighed and shook his head.

"I do not want to be trapped, any more than he does."

The words made Erean feel at least a little bit better as they echoed through his head. But he doubted the kind of help Rannok wanted could be given by a crow, even one far older and wiser than their companion. He didn't know what would.