Gif of a raven:
Username:
Crimsoned
[Though you may call me Crimson, Crim, CW, or really anything you'd like. ^>^]
SK name:
Thylan
The French version of the Vietnamese names Thy Lan or Thuy Lan, meaning "gentle orchid."
One word to describe him:
Sagacious
Having or showing keen mental discernment and good judgment; shrewd.
How He Met His Friend, The Raven:
The story is set when young Thylan is yet a young SK; his father had mysteriously 'disappeared' weeks ago, and his mother sent him out to go fetch a herb. It was night out, with nothing but the stars and his lantern to light up the forest.
The crisp, cool air of the chilling forest did not bother the young Thylan as he walked across the forest floor of an autumn night. He was on small mission; sent by his dear mother to fetch Ginger Root. His lantern swung gently, back and forth, back and forth; With small creaks of swish, swish, it illuminated light for the young one. His paws, soft, yet large, slid on the leaves in silence as an owl made a 'who.' His only mission was to get ginger root, but a lighter, soft swift of wings told him he was not alone as he continued to walk. He felt beady eyes bearing into his back as he walked, but he paid no mind or manner.
As he neared the tree where Ginger Roots normally were found, a small, winged figure came just into view just as a leaf landed softly onto his back, as if whispering, 'Take me with you.'
Thylan paid really no heed, as he always heard whispers; he was normally in tune with his forest, for it was a big network that he, a creature, was connected to. Bending down as the familiar form in the ground was what he was looking for, he gently snagged it with his paws and placed it between his shoulders with a soft grip of his jaws.
As he stooped back up, a new figure appeared, sitting on the ground, eyes looking at him. Thylan had heard of strange creatures attracted to the lanterns, but he had never had such a thing happen to him, his father, or mother. The creature gave a small hop towards him, and he jumped back slightly. It gave a small 'caw' of amusement, loud in the silent night. It was a raven; a black, winged, flighted bird. A raven of special needs no one understood. He was not coward, but brave and loyal.
Yet Thylan understood; for he was the same way. He lowered his head, as the raven did so to it's beak.
The connection was made; and in his raspy, young voice, the young one spoke to the raven.
"Sacred Spirit."