Majestic in shade and splendid in flight, Raven makes himself known only when he wants to. He hunts for lost souls, strangers, waifs and strays… sometimes to help and other times to hinder.

Like the bird he shares his name with, he possesses a mystical and supernatural feel – an aura – welcoming and yet uncomfortable at the same time. Piercing black eyes which reflect hardly any light, and a pale skin, made all the more pale by the shock of black hair and jet black clothing he wears beneath a cape with a collar made of large raven feathers, give him a more menacing look.

He is cold. Calculating. Dark and brooding; yet sometimes approachable.

For some reason, Wednesdays are his good days. Passing waifs seem to be looked upon more favourably on Wednesdays. Mondays are his bad days. His black days.

This year, Halloween falls upon a Monday.

And Raven is ready…


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