But sometimes something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right. A building gets torched. All that is left is ashes. If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them.
Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.
Well, I say don't move. One of my crew got himself perished. Somebody stuck his knives in all his major organs in alphabetical order. You got me dead-bang. You need professional help.