An excerpt from a dork and stormy knight

Ok so this is two paragraphs from the book I am writing, it is inspired by the evil hords of crows the size of chickens (I mean they are frikin huge) that seem to reside in the field across the street from us. Let me know what you think.

A thousand black shadows darkened the sky; crows surrounded them like one great mass of oppression. They were the harbingers of death, bringing the scent of it to his nose, filling his body with their darkness, his very soul wretched at their presence and the knowledge of what it meant. Caws and screeches were all around and the birds themselves stayed in constant flight from tree to tree, creating circles around them, and completing the ominous gray/black feeling that came with the storm clouds and the crows. Something was wrong; no EVERYTHING was wrong! The very earth itself was crying out…

He awoke later; it could have minutes or hours the sky was still the same shade of gray/black that it had been, and he realized that the all encompassing pain had overcome him and he had passed out. A sudden flush ran up the back of his neck, as he filled with embarrassment at the thought. He was supposed to be the savior of the world, strong and impenetrable and yet he had passed out. But it was the cry that broke into his head, and the pit in his stomach, and black filled his eyes as the blood rushed from his head and he had slipped off into oblivion. Now he was awake and he needed to get out of here, he needed to move; maybe if his limbs felt the blood pounding through them, then he would feel alive again and not as if all was hopeless. His hands pushed into the frozen brown earth and lifted him up and out of the puddle of muck that had become the blood and dirt he had lain in.