Disclaimer: I don't own The Crow, as it belongs to Mr. O'Barr. I'm just playing with his toys.
"You'd think being Crows, we'd know how to fly," she says, and he can't help but smirk, even if it only lasts for a moment. Because he thinks maybe he thought the same thing once upon a time, when he took that second dive out of the loft's window months ago.
But he didn't fly then, only fell, like a bird with broken wings, and he laughed as he laid there on the dirty ground because maybe that wasn't too far from the truth.
"No," he tells her, a cynical lilt in his voice. "Only angels know how to fly."