Bran scratched at the roof with the talons on its toes. An anchor.
Eric trekked through the living room, and burst through the door. He stepped out on to the porch, half tempted to climb up to the roof and strangle the black bird. But he didn't. He breathed out hard instead and pressed a shoulder against one of the posts that held the porch cover up. He watched the yard that teemed with life.
He didn't know why the City was plaguing him, why things kept springing up. And why he wasn't strong enough to deal with all of it. Every time he finally began to settle in, to give this place a chance something happened to try to steer him away. He didn't like it.