You may recall I have this habit of picking up disgusting lost socks and making them into birds.
The other day, I found this shredded sock in a puddle of oil in a parking lot. I knew there was a bird in there somewhere. I brought it home and boiled it and washed it.
I was mesmerized by this scene in Game of Thrones and knew what I had to do.
You can’t kill it because the raven is you.
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