There was once a Dove, pure of heart, sound of mind, a close companion of mine.
We were as close as friends could be, from the very beginning we were like family. From the first time we were leaving the comfort of the tree. From when we were both little birds learning to spread our wings. He was like a brother, always ready to protect me. When I faltered he was there to catch me.

The homelands we shared were wondrous, filled with the most beautiful things. It was as abundant in life as it could be.

Birds flew high, and the rodents of the ground scurried low. Flowers sat atop the waters while the fish swam below. It was where I had been my whole life, where i wanted to be. It was my home and it was perfect for me.

But, like with all things there is an equal opposite, you see. The world must remain balanced, this is just how it must be.

A forest met the edge of my home. It was a scary thing. Its waters were dark and lifeless, its skies were gray and dim, the trees were decaying, grotesquely collapsing in.

There were whispers of a daemon that called this forest home. A murderous, thieving thing. An ageless beast, caught in a deep sleep.
My Dove was warned of the forest. The creature lurking within. Yet, he soon became curious, curiosity was not his friend.

He wish to know what lied inside.... what secrets did the dark forest hide?
What strange things would he behold, if he just let his wings unfold?
Dove did not know entering the forest came a such a cost, but once he did enter all hope was lost, for The beat of his excited heart, and the pump of his innocent wings. awoke the hungry thing. 

It shook out its powerful wings. And clamped it wicked beak.
As The beast was drawn from the pull of sleep, and to his feet. Empowered by the Thump thump of Dove's little heart as he tore through the trees.

As It sharpened it's claws on the cold stone. It reminisced over the taking of a soul. How long had it been? To the beast, this mattered not. Now the hunger would end.  At least for this body, then it would begin again.

At one point he hurt, at the thought of taking a soul. But now it is just what must be done. To sustain him. Make him whole.

He sought out the Bird, followed the flap of his wings. He watched as it flew in circles. It really was a curious little thing, Little or not though it would do. Just the thought, brought hunger pains anew.

The wait was something he could no longer stand, so he descended from his perch and advanced on my friend. 

Dove caught sight of the creature, and his blood ran cold, it was a terrible thing to behold.

It drew nearer and his body turned to stone, the taste of fear rolled over his tongue, it immobilized him, he couldn’t fly away. The beast had pinned him with his sight, and there he would stay

It slashed out at My Dove with its wicked claws. pulling feather from flesh. Tearing flesh from bone.

But the physical pain, raw and deep, could not mask the pain he felt underneath.

The creature reached far inside of him, and wrenched something free. It bled it’s way from his body and into the thing.

It drew and fed from his beautiful soul. Breaking apart my Dove, yet making itself whole. 

At last he took it all, the agony was done.
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to feel relieved, he couldn’t feel anything. Inside he was hollow and cold. Merely a shell of a Dove, without a soul.

The creature looked down at the broken bird, and He began to weep. The grief he felt was so deep. Now that he had his soul, the feelings and repercussions began to take hold.

They traded places, you see, now the creature could finally be free.
He felt in his new heart what he had done was wrong, but it was what he had wanted for so long.

He would never forget the look on the innocent things face, as he forced it to take his place.

But soon his resolve hardened, the tears dried from his beak.  It wasn’t his fault the unlucky thing decided to fly through the trees.  Maybe if it had listened it would still be free. Now it was the beast’s turn to spread his wings.

As the topiary thinned, he felt the beautiful rays of sun, slice through the trees and dapple on his wings. Being free was a glorious thing.

The beast now knew joy, happiness, and peace.  But like with all things there is an equal opposite, you see.

For every Drip of joy coursing through the beast’s veins, waves of woe ate at me, the ache drew my tears, my mournfulness destroyed me.  Dove never came home.  My heart was never again whole
And My Dove who was as pure as snow, became as dark as the Crow.