Raven's Watch your memories wrapped within paper and twine

AW! 7pm, 77F, sunny

it has finally stopped raining. the faerie court is still a little flooded, but it is not too bad anymore! caw has seen the floods happen before, in the valley. eventually they will settle back down, and he will be able to restart all of his caches. it will be a lot of work, but that is okay! the entire court will be there to help, this time. there are dens to dig out and food to bury as well, and caw has mostly gathered his plants for himself but the healer is gone now, so he supposes that they can be for everyone else as well! as long as he gets to keep the most important ones for his rituals, just like they are doing now!

he has his bundle of herbs clasped gently in his jaws as he and vrána exit the willows. she is carrying a rabbit they have managed to catch – very fresh, of course! the blood is one of the most important parts of the ritual, and it is not good if it has gone rotten. he does not want to take that chance! the ravens will not accept spoiled meat, and he would not expect them to!

luckily, it does not take too long for them to reach the cliff. this is good, because the rabbit is a lot for a single crow to carry, even if it is not very big! vrána rests on his shoulder when she needs to, but finally, at the base of the outcrop, caw sets everything down and begins the process of nosing the leaves and stems into the proper position.

lavender, mugwort, mint...once he is satisfied with the little wreath he has created, he beckons vrána forward to set the rabbit in between. together, they pull its limbs to the side to expose its belly, and caw sets his teeth and tidily slices the skin and flesh apart. 

the smell of blood fills the air. it is very tempting. but eating now would be very impolite! he does not want to ruin things now. instead, licking at his teeth, caw leans down and begins to pull ropes of intestine free.

as he was not a jaguar or a tiger or a fisher cat, he did not have any natural proclivities to water. he definitely didn't have any learned ones, having been cooped up inside for most of his life. so he very patiently waited out the rain high in the mountains. unfortunately, that meant little to eat. he managed to find some scraps — once a whole leg that he wrestled from some large brown rabbit — but those only managed to keep him from true starvation. he spent most days very hungry.

so it was that he honed in on the scent of fresh blood being spilled at the edges of the mountains on a cliff face. he wasn't surprised to see a wolf hunched over the source. there were plenty of wolves around here. he was confused by the piles of plants around the little carcass that the wolf had acquired.

yoooo, uhhhhh, he licked his lips, the smell of blood setting his stomach on fire. you eatin'? good eats? can i uh, have some? please? he said the last part nicely, with a little mew tinging his words. he hadn't really begged for food in months, and the last time he had was to a naked (hair-wise, his owner wasn't a nudist) bipedal primate. oh cool birb, he said upon seeing the crow, who completed its compatriot's goth aesthetic. sick.

i love benry so much and it hurts me to not feed him.......

vrána notices him first. he is very busy sorting things and arranging them just so, and suddenly she digs her claws into his scruff and yanks. caw yelps, snapping at the air to demonstrate his displeasure. he has not done anything wrong! and she knows what it is they are here for. 

abandoning his artful intestine-based decor, he whirls around to glare at her, and is immediately distracted by the very big cat approaching.

he sniffs at the air curiously, ears back, but this is not virtute. vrána shrieks, wings flapping as she tugs at him like she is trying to pull him backwards. it stings but it is not so bad, and he grumbles a little but resists her, lips wrinkling up and over his bloody teeth. 

"ní féidir linn imeacht!" he protests, wiggling against her grip, and then goes very still when the big cat speaks.

it is in a very weird way, too. he is not so sure it even sounds like english, though he is no master. but he thinks he can understand most of it, maybe, and what he hears he does not particularly like.

this is his offering! he cannot let it be disturbed by cats! 

"food not for cats! not good for you to be here. ravens not like offering being taken. you go." his scruff bristles black-and-white, pulling the feathers with it as he circles around in front of his little altar and lifts the plume of his tail above his back. vrána crows in protest, and though he very much is not looking forward to defending his offering against such a big cat and also against her tugging at him, his ruby gaze remains wide and fascinated. he can't quite resist the question. "...what is birb?"

the crow shrieks and benry flinches, the noise hurting his ears. wha? he tilted his head, his ear twitching. the words that the wolf said were odd. even through the haze of his ears the words were unfamiliar. 's that a no? he blinks, watching the wolf puff up. were those...feathers? yoooo sick man, how'd you get those in there? he said, briefly forgetting his hunger as he stepped forward to inspect the wolf's ruff. that thing's uhh...that's a birb. borb. bird. he gestured with one large paw at the crow fluttering around the black and white wolf.

still puffed up like a startled hedgehog, caw hunches his shoulders and peers at the cat, eyes narrowed to slits of bloody crimson.

"is no," he affirms, lifting himself higher on his spindly legs. he is not very tall. which he usually does not mind but is a bit unfortunate now! the cat is much bigger than he is, just like the last cats, but it does not stop him from making himself look as big as possible. "food for ravens!"

vrána snaps her beak. she tugs back on his shoulder again just in time for the cat to start lumbering towards them, and then she gives another deafening screech directly into caw's ear and lifts away, catching the side of his face with the edge of her wing.

caw yelps, blinking as he furiously shakes his head and nearly overbalancing himself. vrána croaks back down at him and sweeps up to the cliffs and he is also very aware she will come back down if she thinks he is in actual danger. and a cat could probably eat her in one bite. which caw does not want.

but that does not mean he can just leave! luckily the cat seems a bit more interested in him than his rabbit for now.

"vrána helps," caw trills. there is a birdlike chirp to his voice and a birdlike vigilance to the way he watches the big cat, shifting with him to make sure he cannot get at the offering at his back. "beak is good to help put feathers in!"

and he is still paying attention. but. "birb," caw repeats thoughtfully, turning his head to blink up at the cliffs. "borb. why called that? is different language?"

naaaaawwwww, that ain't - that ain't fair, man. benry pouted, unimpressed by the wolf's intimidating display, though it was hard to keep the pleading appearance when he kept licking his chops. the blood was...intoxicating? that was a word for it. birbs can...they can fly, man. and and, and they get plenty of eats. they're omnivers or wutever. 'm a... carniver. meat eater.

he flinched as the bird squawked, the noise hurting his ears. he pawed one, as if that was enough to soothe his eardrums. that's, that's cool man. wish I had sick threads still. he thinks of the sweaters and collars his owner gave him. they were nice, though some were flashy and annoying to wear. his owner was good about knowing what not to put on him. 

uhhhhh, ummm ssslang? like. ain't proper. it's funny to say it wrong? he shrugs. he didn't have the degree or knowhow to question linguistics. if something sounded cool he'd say it. birb. he demonstrated, looking pleased with himself in the way that only cats could.