Tap, tap, tap.

The light tapping of his beloved raven, Nevermore, rapping her beak against the glass of the window draws the witch from his potions journal. A muffled croak emitting from the large black bird. With a gentle and tired smile, Choso unlatched the window and opened it up.

"Hello my friend," He spoke, holding his arm out towards his familiar.

"Hello!" She croaked back, earning a gentle tickle to her feathered chest.

It was a peaceful, tranquil way of living for the witch and his dear Nevermore. A quiet cottage, deep in the foggy woods. What could possibly disrupt that peace?