Sam walked on, trailing his hand against the iron railings of the cemetery to make a thunka-thunks-thunka sound. A little younger and he'd have run along here with a stick. A solitary caw made him look up. A little further along, on one of the stone pillars supporting the railings, a crow perched. It seemed to be watching him, it's head cocked to one side. "Dill? See that crow?"
"Sure. What about it?"
"It's watching me."
"Don't be ridiculous." Dillard nudged his arm. "Getting a little paranoid, are we?"
"You're not paranoid if they really are out to get you." Sam shrugged his shoulder to settle his coat more comfortably. "It's watching me, look."
"Probably wondering what you are." Dillard grinned. "Just ignore it. It's a one hit-point creature, only two XP. 10% chance of attack for 1-3 damage."
"This isn't a roleplaying game Dill. We're not in Dulwich any more."
"More's the pity. I could do with a decent range of spells" He made a pretend gun with his fingers and aimed at the crow. "Pew-pew"
"You'd have shit yourself if the crow had fallen off its perch."
"Probably." Dillard veered off to the left to take the short cut through the cemetery and St. Pity's. "It'd be cool though."
"What would? To be a mage?"
"Sure. A dark mage. I'd cast a darkle spell at that geezer over there, just for the fun of it."
"That one pissing up against the tomb. I'd take him out."
Sam clutched at his arm. "I don't think that's do any good, mate."
"He's already dead."