Decius Corvus is the sort of Cane Corso who is stitched out of patience, weight, and a stubborn fairness. There is a small notebook Decius Corvus carries, half theories about the door marked K N L and half crumbs. Decius Corvus arrives where soup is served and somehow always after the line has shortened. On clear nights Decius Corvus stares at the sky as if waiting for something that hasn't come back yet, and probably will.