Once upon a time in a nondistant place,
there lived a strange little girl with a tear-stained face.
Her clothes were in rags, she was lost and alone.
She’d not a friend to be seen, nor a place to call home.
One day came a raven who stood by her side,
and watched all who came near with his beady black eyes.
Over time they grew closer, the raven and the girl.
The bird would perch on her shoulder and keep her safe from the world.
When there was a threat, the raven gave chase;
not at his leisure, but in a great and fierce haste.
It was usually bugs, or mice, or scary stray dogs,
but on occasion a bad person. This is just a prologue.
As the small girl grew bigger so did her threats, certainly.
It went from pests and beggars to thugs and thieves.
But the raven grew too, stronger and faster, you see.
Without fear or constraint, oh, what a nightmare was he!
He would chase any threats or evil that neared,
and that tenacity was something to be truly revered!
When the chase didn’t work, the villains met their demise.
Our raven pulled at their hair and mercilessly pecked out their eyes.
The girl soon grew up with a bloodbath in wake.
If she’d ever wanted to stop it, it was past ‘far too late.’
She and her friend, they were feared far and wide.
Their bond would live on past the end of all time.