Morning has broken
SPN 100 drabble challenge, word: pick.
Summary: Old beliefs die hard. A little tag to 1.11.
Twinkling dew was dissolving into a golden mist under early sun. The meadow was surrounded by apple trees, white blossoms dabbing a pointillistic pattern into the magic of springtime. The air filled with the heavy scent of fertile earth, dreaming of a long summer and a rich harvest. A little robin picked busily at the tattered shirt of the silent figure, searching for scraps of fabric for the nest. It died in a blur of movement and a puff of tiny feathers. The scarecrow smiled, blood on its leathery lips. A nice starter before the people would bring the sacrifice.