Ever since the Crow met the Raven, everything had turned red.
Even on the coldest, darkest of nights, the stars would shine rose-gold and the Crow would feel the warmth of their colour on her feathers.
Every morning the red sun would rise and the Crow would open her eyes to meet the Raven, who would be sitting high up in the maple tree on a branch next to her.
This morning, the Crow cocked her head and said to the Raven;
“Would you ever consider loving a Crow?”
But the Raven leaned in and pecked out a feather from the Crow’s breast.
The next day, when the sun rose, the Crow forgave the Raven, and asked it again for its courtship. But the Raven plucked out another feather.
One day, when the Raven had pecked out every single feather from the Crow’s body, the Crow said;
“You could peck out my heart and feed it to your conspiracy, I’d still return.”
So the Raven flew away and returned with another bird – a handsome Rook with a snow-white beak. The Raven preened the Rook with care, and the Rook croaked with pleasure.
Suddenly, the Raven pecked out the Crow’s heart and placed it at the Rook’s feet. The Rook devoured it hungrily.
At that moment, a snowflake landed on the Crow’s beak. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so cold.
Hundreds of giant snowflakes began to fall, melting away the redness from the Crow’s eyes, the sky, trees and earth.
The Raven fanned its wings and beat them wildly, shaking the branches of the maple.
The Crow was shaken from her branch, and tumbled down from the tree. She landed in the snow, her eyes wide and white, a plume of blood spilling from her chest.