Supremacy

Absinth watched her son with a discerning eye, noting the earnestness in his expression and the sincerity in his response. She allowed a small, truly rare smile to grace her features, a gesture so warm it held both approval and a silent promise of further lessons. He was by far, the most interested in the corvids of all her children.

“Indica, my little one, your heart is in the right place,” She began, her tone softening just a fraction. “Friends, indeed, can be a part of our allies. They are more than mere pets, more than creatures to command. They are our watchers, our eyes in the sky, and they aid us because we respect them and their place in our world.” Truly, Absinth adored her birds. They were a great part of her childhood, picking at carcasses, preening each other and mourning losses, chattering at their loved ones; all things she never had for herself but had always observed.

She took a step closer, her breath visible in the cold morning air as it mingled with his. “Remember this, Indica: True strength lies not only in your might but in the bonds you form. These ravens, our friends as you say, choose to be with us. They are not bound by chains or force, but by mutual understanding. They help us because we help them, and that is the foundation of a strong alliance.”

Her gaze shifted upward, watching a raven as it circled above them, its dark form of great contrast against the pale winter sky. “Respect them, cherish them, but also understand their role and their freedom. They are not pets, for pets are subservient. They are allies, bound to us by choice and necessity. They may leave at any time, they have history and tales to tell, they have love and loss themselves; just as we do.”

She turned her attention back to Indica, her eyes gleaming with pride and calculation. “You are learning, my dear. And one day, you will understand fully.” She leaned down to nuzzle the boy, to share her warmth, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she rose again to meet his eyes. “Any questions, my Inky?”



wormwood