Elena's P.O.V
The sky stretched endlessly above us, a canvas painted in eerie hues of blood red, as if the heavens themselves were bleeding. Clouds, heavy and ominous, hung low, casting an otherworldly glow upon the landscape. The air was thick with an unsettling tension, and the usual serenity of the day had been replaced by an unsettling symphony.
It wasn't just the sky that held an unnatural crimson; even the clouds seemed to have soaked in the blood of some celestial turmoil.
As we stood there, gazing at the surreal scene, an unkindness of ravens circled overhead, their silhouettes stark against the crimson canvas. Their caws melded with the distant rumble of thunder and the haunting whistle of the wind, creating a symphony of foreboding. Each flap of their wings seemed to echo a hidden warning, and their presence only added to the surreal nature of the moment.
