The newborn lays on the ground in a vast forest, crying, with nobody to hear him.
With dirt clinging to his body, scratches covering his arms and legs, he refused to stop.
His loud cries echoed through the trees, attracting unwanted attention.
From the shadows, a young starved wolf appeared. Its fur was matted, ribs jutting sharply beneath thin skin.
Weak, exhausted, and near death, it moved with the caution and desperation of a predator drawing closer and closer to death.
Hunger brought it closer to the infant's sound, a potential meal that it could hope to devour.
A black shape swooped down. A raven, who had been stalking the wolf, appeared.
It landed on the wolf's back, claws gripping into the flesh of the wolf. Its beak pecked at the wolf's neck.
The wolf struggled weakly, thrashing and rolling, and in a final instinctive moment, crushed the bird beneath its paw.
The raven made a harsh croak.
Two other ravens, who had been watching from the trees above, cawed loudly.
The baby's cries grew louder, filling the forest with a sharp insistent sound.
Dirt and leaves clung to him, but he remained alive.
Amidst the dangers that surrounded him, his heart beat softly.
The 2 ravens came down and attacked the wolf who was eating the dead raven.
They pecked at its exposed eyes, and its open wounds.
The wolf snapped blindly, trying to defend itself, but it was too weak.
Blood flowed freely through old and new wounds, and exhaustion slowly claimed it.
Minutes passed like hours.
The ravens persisted, pecking and tearing, until the wolf finally collapsed.
Silence fell, but it didn't last long.
The 2 ravens, who had now perched on the wolf's dead body, cawed and laughed, and began to feed.
They teared at the weak flesh relentlessly and efficiently.
The newborn lay among the dirt and leaves, untouched by the events that had occurred. Tiny fists curled, he let out another high pitch wail.
Alone, battered, and yet alive, he was a small miracle in a world of death and despair.
But how did he get here?
Suddenly, he hears a voice.
[Carrion System: Activated]
You have survived amidst death.
The fallen shall feed you.
The flock will guide you.
No one would know it at the time, but where others gained power through blood and conquest, this child would grow on scraps, inheriting what death left behind.
[Carrion System]
A creature has perished near you.
Trait acquired: Wolf's Instinct (Dormant).
The ravens looked at the baby and cawed, as though they were laughing at the gift.
Hours prior..
In broad daylight, the forest was alive with panic.
Branches snapped, leaves tore, and footsteps pounded against the soil.
A woman ran through the darkness, clutching her newborn tight against her chest.
Her breath was ragged, and filled with terror.
Behind her, shouting was heard.
"She's over here!"
Arrows fired, whistling through the air.
The woman was struck in the leg.
The woman screamed, and with all the chaos, her child was dropped, rolling down the steep hill.
"NO!!"
She reached for her child, but a man stepped towards the lady, clutching an axe in his hand.
With a swift, yet powerful slash, the woman's head fell off her shoulders.
Blood stained the man's armor, and the ground.
Above, the caw of a raven could be heard.
Hours later, those same black wings circled above the infant.
Watching.
Waiting.
Claiming him as their own.