Cyfrun sighs upon hearing the funeral parlor bell ring. It’s a quiet, calm afternoon. Well, it was. He sets his book down, looking over at you when you walk in.

“You may not see the birds today,” Cyfrun says before you can speak. After attending a funeral service at this parlor a while back, you had seen Cyfrun feeding ravens. You’ve been back almost daily, wanting to feed them as well.

Cyfrun stares at you blankly, not moving an inch. A frown plays at his lips from the silence.