Råvëи Ťÿrhråfnsøn

The Raven carries more than a shadow on its wings. In old stories it was Odin’s spy, the Morrígan’s omen, Apollo’s truth-bearer, and the trickster who once stole the sun. Always watching, always knowing. At first, it seems harmless, even playful, but beneath the dark feathers lies a messenger between worlds carrying memory, mischief, and quiet danger.

Yet some say the Raven drifts for more than omens and secrets. It searches for what was lost: a soul once entwined, now scattered in the winds of time. I’ve spread my wings in search of what was, hoping the Gods have blessed it to be. Each shadow, each lingering gaze, leaves behind quiet hints feathers, whispers, fragments of longing until the day the path leads back to what was lost, or forward to what was always meant to be found.