If journeys came with rulebooks, he'd probably just disobeyed every word.
Raven scowled through his too-long bangs. “The Angel Song doesn’t hurt humans. It only affects the evil within.” “Then you should be writhing on the ground with the hounds,” Mace mumbled.
Normally, he liked boundaries. Boundaries were the safety net. Boundaries kept people on the right path. But right now, he felt like rules were made to be broken and consequences were miles and miles away.
From my writer's workshop, "Know when it's time to put everything you've got on the page. Then, rip open a vein and do it!
