Moonlit Terrors

Nothing escapes the raven's sight.  These creatures of the night to which darkness was no obstacle are what the homunculi fear the most.  Their eyes are said to be sharp enough to spot movement from even the most distant regions of this land.  Some even speak of a rumor that when the moon is in full bloom, their sight grows near limitless.  It may be hard to believe such a myth and yet the homunculi dare not challenge it to this day, instead showing great respect to the might of the moon.  For the safety of the domicile, guidelines were created and at the very top of the list was to never risk leading them back home.  

Regardless of the true extent of the raven’s visual prowess, to be spotted was nothing short of receiving an immediate death sentence; a hand stitched finality woven into the very fabric of fate from which one could not escape.  Unfortunately, this sentence would not be swiftly carried out, instead according to the legends your fate would be quite the opposite.  At the size and speed of the ravens, the homunculi were nothing more than helpless playthings once spotted by the winged merchants of death that preyed upon them for sport.  As such, they were known to drag their victims back to their nests to take part in a sickening ritual.  Beaks dripping with the juice of wild hallucinogenic berries, the unkindness of ravens would drench their victims in the scraps of their feast until they could no longer control their body, slowly devolving all involved into a state of constant manic frenzy.  Ultimately, it was a slow, maddening fate that could take weeks before the end was eventually reached.  

As such, the fear of being caught was real; a palpable sensation that tasted bitter in the mouth and dry in the throat.  Its presence was evident on the faces of those surrounding the shelter.  But as a wide, dark terrifying shape floated down from above, landing just several feet from their meek shelter, recognition set in morphing fear into dread.