[crow]

Two men stood apart in a sea of grass, one taller and one shorter. The taller was very tall, and the shorter was only shorter relative to him; among a more average crowd, he would not have fared so badly in comparison. The taller wore a hat, while the shorter did not, loose dark locks falling into his eyes when they were not lifted by the breeze.

"I do not understand," said the taller. "This is not in our jurisdiction."

[crow]

The shorter one did not reply for a time, merely gazing out across the landscape. The whole of it was devoid of color, washed out like a black and white photograph, animated only in shades of grey. When the shorter one did not speak, the taller man turned his gaze outward too.

Eventually, the shorter man inclined his head. "You are right, after a fashion. It is not the place of reapers to interfere with the living... That is the tenet by which we have operated almost since the beginning."

[crow]

"You disagree," said the taller man.

The shorter owned to it easily. "I do," he said, smiling. "Though this is not that, exactly."

The wind picked up, though neither seemed bothered by it. The taller man merely lifted a hand to hold onto his hat.

"You see, the living may have the freedom of ignorance, but we do share this world, in the end." The shorter man turned to look at the taller now. He was still smiling, but some of the warmth had dissipated from it.

[crow]

The taller man's expression had not changed. He stood there, staring out, his face impassive. Perhaps he was thinking. Perhaps he was simply waiting for the shorter man to stop speaking.

The shorter man did not stop speaking.

"We have better means than they do," said the shorter man. "The Council does not like to admit this, but what we hold is a kind of power. And at the heart of it, we are responsible for maintaining balance, are we not?"

[crow]

The taller man did not answer, but something in his posture softened slightly.

The shorter man pressed his advantage. "If the cause of this... disturbance... were to upset that balance, then the work would fall to us, sooner or later."

"Very well," said the taller, his voice still impassive and without tone. "I shall do as you ask, so long as it is not against the will of the Council. You know I cannot defy them as you do."

[crow]

"As I do, hmm?" said the shorter man. "It seems I've gained something of a reputation."

"Your intervention with... the girl. It is widely known," said the taller man.

"Oh, is that all? That's better than I expected." The shorter man actually laughed, a light warm sound in the quiet of the field. The taller man glanced at him, for the first time looking uncertain. The shorter man shook his head. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, I assure you, especially if you mean to live by the Council's values."

[crow]

The taller man seemed troubled by the shorter one's words, but in the end he did as directed, and questioned no further. When next he spoke, it was about something else altogether. "You are certain that it is here?"

"I have a sense that something is, yes, but I cannot tell you what," said the shorter man. The taller looked as though he did not entirely believe it. The shorter man caught his eye and shrugged gently. "You overestimate me. I am impudent and very old, yes; infallible I am not."

[crow]

"I will try," said the taller man. "I cannot guarantee anything. I am not... "

"Used to it, yes," said the shorter man. "No, I would not ask any more of you. I... have my own leads to investigate as well."

The taller man did not bid him goodbye, but neither did he react when the shorter man disappeared. Without his companion, he was left alone amid the grass. It stretched before him like an endless sea, undulating by waves under the wind.

[crow]

The shorter man had given him a lead by leading him here, but to find anything in this place seemed as unlikely as finding a needle in a haystack. And the taller man had no affinity for... whatever tell had sparked the shorter man's interest.

There was a heavy black book held in one of his hands, and now he lifted it with both to look at it, but its cover betrayed nothing to him. Even so, he stared for several seconds before putting it down again.

[crow]

It seemed that he really would have nothing more to go on.

Very well. He had promised that he would try, and nothing more. The tall man walked forward, wading through the grass, looking around him for anything of note, now and then, here and there. Several times he passed fawns laying in the grass, perfectly still and silent. Of the three, he was noticed only once.

The fawn made brief eye contact with him, but the man only nodded and moved along.

[crow]

Not all living creatures could see him, but prey creatures--- especially the young and fragile, like a fawn waiting in the grass--- were closer to death than almost anything not brought near death by other means. It did not startle the tall man to be spotted by their kind, nor did they seem startled to see him pass among them.

They knew he was not there for them. They knew that they would know, when the time came. They did not struggle in vain even after the fact, the way humans did.

[Wild Pet Found]

[crow]

But the fawns were in the same colorless state as everything else, so they were of no help to him either.

It felt futile, struggling here, seeking for evidence of any kind of color, of any single thing that might lead him to one among the endless grass. The tall man had been sent on fools' errands before, and he knew a great deal about the nature of futility, but a thankless task such as this grated on even his patience.

[crow]

He searched for a long time, but eventually, the tall man fell still, staring out at the horizon once more.

He would not call the other man a fool, but this was no task for them. There must have been someone, or something, better suited to it. They had a purpose already, and it was not this, whatever the shorter man might say about their obligations to balance or to the living.

By chance, he glanced down. And by chance alone, he saw it.

[crow]

It was a single flower, swaying gently in the wind. It was, in theory, no different than any number of flowers, no more remarkable in any other way.

But it was yellow. He perceived this just as surely as he perceived that everything around it was the same pallid grey that it had been.

The sight of color made him realize how much of it he had already forgotten. The vividness, in the midst of everything here, was almost an assault to the senses.

[crow]

The tall man was at a loss. He hadn't expected to find anything, least of all something like this. His first thought was to pluck the flower and take it with him, though he was stopped almost immediately by another possibility: that the color might fade immediately if he did this, or more slowly, as the flower withered and died.

No, he supposed he ought not to risk it. Not when it was so difficult to find even one flower such as this.