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“The manor ravens were on the move. One by one, they glided across the lawn and took up posts in the trees that fringed the property. It was rare to see so many at once. And what was that called? “Unkindness,” I said. “An unkindness of ravens.” Rubbing my chilled arms, I rose from the bench and took a last look at the scene below. “Unkindness and murder,” I whispered.” — M.E. Hilliard
The manor ravens were on the move. One by one, they glided across the lawn and took up posts in the trees that fringed the property. It was rare to see so many at once. And what was that called?
“Unkindness,” I said. “An unkindness of ravens.”
Rubbing my chilled arms, I rose from the bench and took a last look at the scene below.
“Unkindness and murder,” I whispered.