Canary

The bright morning sun shines through the windows of the rickety inn you chose to stay in you grumble as the sunlight hits your closed eyes as you grumble in dissatisfaction you hear the familiar sound of a book closing “oh, Devine one. You’ve awoken,sigh, what a shame you awoke before I could finish my morning prayer.” canary says bluntly book of scripture clasped in one of his slender gloved hands