It had been a windy day today, whose breezes had unusually carried on into the dim light of the evening. A black pegasus, aided morally by the raven perched on his back, swung open the door to his small bookstore. The dusty old store smelled of wisdom and unread wonders. Ink smiled, observing the literature which held the antique atmosphere togethor. He had sold many books today, making today a vital market. Yet, he hadn't sold many of his own books. This saddened him to a point, but this feeling was revoked by the thoughts of past experiences. Recent memories of adventure and joy flooded his mind, as he aimlessly stood in place before the open door. Ink smiled before coming back into reality, where he realized that it would be a good idea to shut the oak door before the somewhat mighty breeze completed the chore for him. The black pegasus walked back into the store, and began to blow out the radiant candles one by one. With a single candle remaining, he stopped and hovered back to the silky rug upon the ground. Corvus blinked an nudged his beak against Inkblot's neck, as if he was trying to tell the pegasus something. But it was the end of the day. There was no reason to keep the store open, right? Or was the wise bird foretelling a coming event?