Her Raven

They watch the dying as if to say, "Forgive us, we who slay the brave," and there's no glory now that lights their eyes, no more of Her reflected satisfaction. I call, just once, and smile inside to see them flinch. Then I spread my wings, and fly away.

Cathubodva's Raven, G. Smart.

This piece was inspired by mythology and the notion that the ravens that followed the fighting and lingered to feast on the dead weren't always what they seemed...

Drawn on white calligraphy paper (8.27 in x 11.69 in), with black and deep red ink, and brown, shades of gold and silver, and white acrylic paint.