Raven's Watch oh the wind is blowing, it hurts your skin

caw pays no attention at the best of times. not to anything that isn’t fun! that is their rituals and omens, and plants, and seashells, and shiny objects, because their name is not just for their fur. this is to say they missed out big time on the “proper social interaction” part of their childhood. or were, more likely, off goofing around when the lessons were handed out.

he does stop when she stumbles backwards, though. he does not mean to scare people! not right now, anyways. luckily for her, this complete lack of comprehension as to how someone is supposed to act keeps caw from seeing anything as particularly odd.

“lumiya,” caw parrots, and then, with eyes widening, “loinnir!” he wiggles more. this is familiar! he has found someone else! “yes! is good choice.”

muzzle angled in the owl’s direction, he leans forward, eyes glittering. “you have a pretty name! it fits you well.”

to her question, caw clicks his tongue and looks back to vrána, hosting a quick whispered conversation. they know her language! not as well as their own. it is not used as often as his own anymore. “is slovenian! is language some use back at home. not same for all of us. most speak irish! just like loinnir.” he leans in, buoyed by this information. “caw’s name not caw! is caróg, but hard to say if not from home. mean crow.” he puffs up a little at the announcement, very visibly proud of this fact. “is good name, yes?”