Hawk fell into an uneasy silence, fidgeting a bit. Teige looked up at the feathers still held over his head, and then said plainly, "Well, she must be somewhere."

Hawk looked at him. "Truth is," Teige admitted, "I don't see yer death-bird and I never heard of its like. But what do I know? I've met more monsters this week than in my whole life. Maybe lots a'folk can see death. It'd make sense, yeah? You already got your thing for ghosts--"

"I don't want--" Hawk started to said hotly, and then restrained himself, wrapping his arms over his head and gripping his hair. "I don't want more 'a that." Teige had to lean closer to hear him over the rain. "'S horrible to see 'em and have 'em shout at you and not be able to do anythin'. Used to be, I'd get screamed at for talkin' about 'em."

He hesitated.

"I saw that bird 'fore Em was killed," he murmured. "I don't wanna see that bird come for no one else."

Teige sat back. "Seems it could be useful, though," he remarked. "If you could chase it off on purpose. Just a thought."