Poe Raven carries a morose air, often brooding with a sharp eye and sharper words. Though his temper is quick, he channels it into eloquent, poetic explanations that leave his pals impressed even as he vents. With Poe, every sigh and complaint somehow sounds like a masterpiece, often punctuated with a dramatic… “nevermore.”
He is a morose Palm Pal with soft black plush, outstretched wings, and a shadowy little shape that feels perfectly suited for an eerie autumn night. His dark round body, tiny feet, and solemn expression give him a brooding charm, like a midnight thought come quietly to life.
Not much amuses me these days, if I am being honest. I once had a favorite bench to perch upon and brood in peace, but alas… it broke. Since then, I mostly pass the hours in elegant gloom, watching the world go by and finding the occasional flicker of entertainment in a particularly dreary sky, a dramatic silence, or the sound of someone making a very poor decision.
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