[color=#1A1A3B][b][u][h1][sub][sub][sub]Farren[/sub][/sub][/sub][/h1][/u][/b][/color]                   Shared a meaningful glance with Ophelia as another of the hunters called for everyone’s attention. Then, he headed in that direction, understanding that it would be easier to find Moira that way. As they walked he picked up on the fact that the fog was incredibly pervasive—its depth something that was beginning to set him on edge. It didn’t feel…[i]natural.[/i] Further, the similarly—seemingly universal—presence of those same crow skull wards on the vast majority of the buildings they walked past was signalling to him that something particularly strange was about in the Industrial Ward.

When Ophelia idly asked if he recognized the rune—if it were perhaps the one he’d acquired at Skinner’s expense—Farren shook his head, deigning not to break the somewhat eerie silence of their short trek. 

As they walked, Ophelia might notice as Farren repeatedly glanced to the rooftops where the crows were watching, some in groups, others alone or in pairs. He didn’t like it, for while he knew the creatures were rather intelligent there was something [i]other[/i] going on. As if the creatures were watching them…perhaps on the behalf of something else.

Eventually the pattern of the road changed…and then the signs of a struggle appeared. Broken cobblestone…huge gashes torn through the street and the soil that lay beneath, then blood…and the eviscerated remains of not one beast…but at least three. As each came into view, Farren’s expression darkened further.

Not unexpectedly, the massive obsidian hued feathers strewn about almost matched those they’d seen at the factory—though this were far…far larger. He made a mental note to go back and investigate the place, for while the fetishes at its entrances—or wards, if Ophelia was right—appeared nigh ubiquitous here he had a feeling that the place might glean even more details.

At Moira, then Ophelia’s musings, Farren shook his head, [color=#1A1A3B][b]“Unless you know of a church giant garbed in the feathers of some giant corvid, I sincerely doubt that [i]‘someone’[/i] else did this,”[/b][/color] Farren said, his tone grave. Beasts hunting beasts? The crow-skull talismans on every door…the ever watchful crows—he could even hear the occasional rasp of their claws echoing inwards to him now—and those feathers…those damned massive feathers. This was something new.

Farren looked to Moira, his azure eyes practically boring into her as he voiced his query, [color=#1A1A3B][b]“You seen anything like this before?”[/b][/color]