"Ouch!" Molly McPherson exclaimed as she dropped the bedding. She pulled up her sleeve to peer at her arm. Burned into the flesh of her forearm was a raven. "Bloody brickin'it!"
Molly had been Aine's childhood friend. They were both the same ages, Molly sighed, she was only thirty-two, but felt old. Her hair was a mix of faded red and gray. It was braided high to keep it out of her way as she worked. Her skin was still smooth—well, maybe except her hands which were a little work roughened. She considered her eyes her best feature. It was odd, but when Aine and she ran around together, others didn't seem to notice Aine's unusual light purple eyes. They just assumed they were blue, like Molly's.
She walked out of the front and towards the back of the manor. She stared out at the endless ocean. She lightly touched the new burn and only then, could she see the O'Byrne property, beyond the wall. She grinned savagely—Aine had done it! She sat down on the wall and released her wound. This meant that Aine was dead just as she had foretold. She let the tears flow as she looked out to the sea. Aine had been a precious and trusted friend since they were small children. She would be dearly missed.