Gyrfalcon's Keep tell me of progress to strengthen my blood

Her grip on the nest was hazardous at best -- as such she often had to replace her handle on the unstable load. So preoccupied was she by her shaky load she scarce noticed the avian comrade's unfortunate tumble with an enraged male falcon. Never been one for appreciating the benevolence of others, Caiaphas continued the perilous ferry of her illicitly obtained goods.

Once they were far enough the raven flitted about her; she regarded him in silence as he bobbed along an outstretched branch. She had never developed a fondness of the avian persuasion, yet this fowl was proving most earnest in his ambitions. She placed the unsteady heap at her paws as Bartok's crafty utterance met her ears. Having always been one acquainted (poorly) with dry humor, it evinced a brief smile from the wench. "Dog require all the eggs." She confirmed snootily, licking her lips as she reminisced on their creamy, membranous texture. She hunched downwards as she felt him flutter towards her, unsure of his intentions -- yet when he did not nick her with his hooked talons she visibly loosened her posture. "Bird want?" It appeared she had regressed most regrettably into the bird's clipped vernacular -- a stunted speech in which delighted her upon utterance.