Hushed Willows Beneath the Bowed Head of Mother Willow

"yes but-" another croak-groan, this one at least directed outward. "you're a hunter. i'm a scavenger. this-" wings geatured at the marten casually decomposing as they, contrary to both nature and reason, conversed. "-is maggot-meat. rotten. my domain. you've no reason to be here, and even if this marten died a minute ago, you'd have no reason to talk to me."

wings clasped together, fledgling eyes went wide and the raven looked at the wolf expecting a throughout answer.