Unlike most of the life on the Old World, the crow that flew in the temperate but warm forest could not think for itself. It could however observe, and that was all that mattered.
It could see the world from a view that only the most arrogant beings normally could. All it saw was potential landing zones. A more intelligent eye would notice the dim gleam of unpolished metal below, the only signs that the forest below had once been a metropolis of the highest order. Alas, such mystery and beauty is squandered on the uncaring, and so the crow was merely content to land upon the roof of a low lying building overtaken by the forest, cawing to itself in a tone and pitch that could have been mistaken for pride.
The forest was not slient. It teamed with the endless thrum, the struggle of life in every square inch of available surface, living, fighting, dying constantly without end. The circle of life at its finest, evolution for evolution's sake without the Order brought on by more intelligent beings to disturb it.
But alas, so had it been before, so it was again, when footsteps disturbed the dust and dirt of the Old World. A figure, hunched over as he walked upon the surface of a dead and forgotten city came to a halt outside of the building. The being was a man, but not one of the usual sort. He was neither scientist nor soldier, although he carried the troubled face and weight of the world on his back much like they did.
His clothes, such as they were, were of a dark gray cloth and ragged make, although they were clearly warm and sturdy. His face was weathered with lines and fatigue, but his eyes were keen and alert, a brown that matched the earth under his feet. He began to move away from the building, passing under shadows that revealed the flecks of malevolent purple light in his eyes. The bird cawed and moved, following the stranger. It was curious, for its instincts could feel no danger from the man.
The man wandered the forest for hours, before coming to a stop at the base of a once great skyscraper, now brought low by age and rot. Its corpse cast a long shadow upon the world, although it could be said that the shadow the man had was even longer.
A sigh escaped the man's lips, echoing like a gunshot as he sat upon a piece of fallen debris. The crow stirred from its nesting spot atop the archway entrance of the building, its head tilting in curiosity at the man.
A growl pieced the already disturbed air. A great wolf emerged from the building under the crow, looking at the man sitting on the rock. Its great keen eyes observed the man, judging him with hidden depths of intelligence. The man for his part did not look worried. Merely resigned and calm, except for a slight tensing of his hand around a walking stick he carried, the jewel atop flickering internally with flames of purple light.
The wolf trotted up to the man and laid at his feet.
A raised eyebrow on the man's part greeted this unexpected development. A ''Harumph'' passed through the man's lips, his head shaking back and forth. As much as he took the wolf's peaceful nature in stride, he was - not - prepared for a crow to suddenly swoop down and latch onto his shoulder.
A cry of fright was heard by all, causing the wolf to stir from its resting spot, looking quizzically at the man. The man was glaring at the crow on his shoulder, a feather having been shaken loose from the crow at the force of the collision.
The man's hard eyes eventually softened, laying down on the debris, looking directly at the sun as it began to set.
Not a single word was said. Not a single word was needed.
There you go, another short little piece for all of you to enjoy. I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoy writing them.