It moved forward in a crawl, jagged angles flowing over soil and stone alike, dawn shaping shadow and sun into beaks and talons that moved relentless toward her boot and over it. With a touch of her finger, the fern curled in on itself, withdrawing crags and fangs into a soft ribbon of green and grey whose silhouette curled round her foot like a friendly snake.
“A Conversion of Crows”
About the story: Searching for magic in a secondary world remarkably like the Oregon coast.
Inspired by that same Whitesnake song.