Title is what a flock of ravens is called.
Professor Layton isn't mine.
It was a bad sign when one of them appeared on her doorstep.
They were black ravens - things that belonged in a horror film and not her enchanting, sweet little fairy-tale town.
But they were always there, always the underside of said town, always hiding deeper than the fog and the mist.
(She is in no place to talk though - for she is a witch.)
But the worst is when their leader would casually walk up to her doorstep, smirking the smirk that mocks her and wind blowing through his curled locks.
And it's not a normal occurrence - because times like these only mean one thing:
He wants something, and he's going to use her to get exactly that something he wants.
So she hides in her curtains, forcing her head away from the window, her gaze away from his ¾ and all because he never comes in his pack, flock or murder, just him and himself.
But she can't lie, even as feigning her blush on her cheeks fails. He is the leader, and he will use whatever or whoever he can to get the witch to use her powers on him.
And yet, it is nothing more than a witch meeting her raven.
(and though she thinks she controls them, he controls her - using her feelings to get the better of her.)