Emberwood and he sang about what i'd become

@Serem

there is a raven.
 
caw does not often see them – did not, anyways, at his home. those they had not driven out learned quickly – the moment a crow or wolf saw them they were guaranteed death. it is a lesson that has been drilled into caw, and like the others he has learned from those who raised him, it is one that neither he nor avis he will soon forget.
 
he does not often do subtle, but crouched low to the ground he slinks behind the snow and tangled fallen tree-limbs, as quiet as he ever gets. avis is somewhere above him; as he creeps around one trunk, lips peeled steadily back and white teeth bared, the raven glances up. it does not fly, not yet, but it meets his eyes coolly, and at that moment avis drops from the trees.
 
caw breaks, abruptly, into a sprint. his paws scrabble at the snow and dirt and the layer of dead leaves for a second before he gains purchase and launches himself forwards.
 
avis and the raven are, for a moment, hard to tell apart. caw splashes snow everywhere under his paws, and does not hesitate, driving forwards with jaws wide and the assumption avis will know enough to make sure he gets the raven in his teeth.
 
he feels feathers on his tongue, sees a black-winged figure pull itself away from him, but there is no crow’s call of warning, and he bites down. blood flares against his tongue bright and metallic, and when caw yanks his head up a familiar weight lands on his back.
 
bones crunch under the pressure of his jaws. if it was any other animal he would not hesitate to bite and swallow, but ravens are not for eating; that is another lesson he has learned. instead he shakes his head violently back and forth and throws it, still struggling faintly, to the ground.

The ebony pelted wolfess was hunting when she overheard rustling occurring from afar. The noise ultimately caused the unsuspecting animal jump and flee. Our food. Nightfire's voice growled within her skull. Serem shook her head and just as she was about to turn around and leave the area, her curiosity peaked and she found herself walking in the direction of the noise, slowly and cautiously sinking into the shadows as she crept closer towards it.

the bird hits the ground all but silently. his teeth and the power of his jaws have not yet done enough; it is still alive, and its wings flutter weakly, a mess of protruding bone and feather and vivid red that leaks out onto the snow. caw’s mouth yawns open wide as he watches it, drooling gobs of blood that drip from his chin and exposed teeth and tongue to his where his paws meet the snow. his fur is bristling wildly, feathers sticking up every which way.
 
he could kill it now, but there is something far more savagely satisfying about watching it struggle and slowly bleed out. his ruby eyes are fixed on it as it flaps, as its already-halting movements slow; he is, as always, too-fascinated by death, and there is something that might be unnerving about the hawk-like way he watches it, as though he has forgotten the rest of his body – the rest of the world – exists in the meantime.
 
more than that, he does not want to touch it any further. ravens are unclean – and he does not want the taste of its blood in his mouth any more, nor the temptation to swallow it.
 
the bird has not yet stilled when caw’s nostrils flare to a distinctly unfamiliar smell. though he is certain many wolves have wandered through here, their scents have all but faded – this is fresh, new. caw’s head tilts a fraction, ears flicking curiously, though his eyes remained locked on his prey; he feels avis shift on his back as she notices his movements.
 
he does not take more than a moment to decide whether to respond. “ave,” he says, his voice as cheerful as ever, even with the bloody sight before him. perhaps even more than usual.

The dark female wasn't expecting him to greet her the way he did. Especially when her actions would have been questioned by any other wolf. Though the language he spoke sounded awfully familiar, from where she knew not. "Hi there." Serem wanted to say something else but she got a pain in her head before she spoke. She shook it off before her face was noticed, slowly leaving the shadows which concealed her.

caw does not much care for this stranger's presence when he already has so exciting a thing to watch. his eyes are still fixed on the dying raven, even as the crunching of snow signals the closer approach of the wolf he'd noticed earlier. the bird's struggles are growing rapidly weaker, red spreading further and further across the patchy snow while caw watches like a vulture circling its dying prey.

avis is, instead, the one who looks up when the wolf approaches from where she is perched on caw's upper back. she scans the stranger with no movement but the flick of her blood-red eyes and refolds her wings in a rustle of feathers, letting out a short, sharp caw as the woman speaks.

caw's ears flick. "manere," he protests, before he registers the stranger's words. only then does he lift his muzzle, the fur around his mouth dark with blood; he cocks his head, his unblinking stare only redirected from the bird to the new wolf. because she responded correctly -- not in latin, but correctly. perhaps she speaks his language too?

caw wiggles briefly in place, excited by the idea. "salve!" he chirps. "quis es?"

There was that language again, Serem felt her ears twitch at his words. Though the stranger stays with his happy attitude which was a good sign. "My name is Serem. Who are you?" The she-wolf felt comforted by the words he spoke, she distinguished them from somewhere. But her mind wouldn't allow her to remember.

caw stares at her, almost excited, waiting for another response to his words. when it comes -- it is also correct, though caw isn't exactly certain why she refuses to use latin in response. it is, after all, the proper language, and to speak english instead of latin when there is perfectly good opportunity to do so is...it is not forbidden, he supposes, because this is not his family, but it certainly lowers his opinion of her.

he wrinkles his nose in her direction. she does not seem particularly interested in his prey, either, even as it stills in the snow; caw's head snaps to the side as its movements in the corner of his eye cease, and all at once, with a shudder, it goes completely limp, wings splaying across the snow. the soft twitch of what is almost a smile curls the edges of his lips, peeling back briefly to expose a flash of teeth, before his attention returns to the wolf.

he blinks at her. "nomen mihi est caw!" he wags his tail once, and gestures with his muzzle to the crow watching from his shoulder. "hic est avis."

raven now forgotten, caw inches forwards, nostrils flaring as he sniffs curiously at her, completely ignoring any concept of personal space. there is something else in her fur that is not just wolf, that feels like pack, though caw has not yet noticed any borders nearby.

he cocks his head again, this time the other way. "unde es? quid grax?"

Serem noticed the bird fall dead but she looked back at the male fairly quickly. "Vos noscere." It's as if the words rolled smoothly off her tongue. What the hell was that!? She thought as she gained a look of confusion. That certainly wasn't English. How was it that she knew that. Through her confused state, Serem didn't catch the last part of the males question.