©2022 Michael Raven
I’m pretty certain the first draft scene from yesterday would be better served by the Scottish traditional “The Twa Corbies” as the singsong from my little waif. Now… How to leverage it in the greater story. Alternately, “Who Killed Cock Robin?” might suit. One version of “The Twa Corbies” follows:
As I was walking all alane, I heard twa corbies making a mane; The tane unto the t'other say, 'Where sall we gang and dine to-day?' 'In behint yon auld fail dyke, I wot there lies a new slain knight; And naebody kens that he lies there, But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair. 'His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame, His lady's ta'en another mate, So we may mak our dinner sweet. 'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane, And I'll pike out his bonny blue een; Wi ae lock o his gowden hair We'll theek our nest when it grows bare. 'Mony a one for him makes mane, But nane sall ken where he is gane; Oer his white banes, when they are bare, The wind sall blaw for evermair.'