[Open] A Sudden Encounter with a Predator

[Mella]

Season of Winter, Midday, Day 72, 509 AV

She heard the shout long before the others surrounding her did. A young woman wrapped in a hooded cloak that put her eyes in shadow paused, her head cocked to one side listening. Usually she would not have stopped; she had become well used to the sounds of the city since her arrival and yells were a common occurrence especially since her acute hearing picked up more noise than most. Shouts could be heard streaming from taverns, yells of instructions came from the blacksmith’s shop, and cries of children filtered to the streets from the surrounding houses. Yet, this particular bellow caught her interest and her progress through the busy street halted. The shout had anger to it coupled with frustration and two sets of running footsteps could be heard. One was light and quick, the other slow and heavy. It was not long till she saw movement jostling the crowd behind her.

“Thief! Stop him!” The people around her turned toward the direction of the shout their weak ears finally catching the sounds that drifted towards them. A small, young boy of perhaps seven darted in and out of the throngs of people with a large heavyset man wearing an apron not far behind--though she could tell from where she stood that the man had just about reached his limit. Again the baker called a cry for help as the young boy gained distance. The people around him were either too shocked or too slow to react and several made a grab for him, but they only caught empty air as he dodged and sped by them.

She watched with a curious gaze as the boy dashed her way. Without thought, a pale hand shot out from her dark green cloak catching the boys arm and wrenching him towards her so that he was pinned against her. In what appeared to be an almost affectionate embrace, Mella restrained the boy to her so that his back was pressed against her front and he struggled futilely thrashing his limbs trying to escape her clutch. But, his strength was no match for hers despite her thin appearance and he finally stilled letting his head hang in defeat as the baker approached them panting.

“Good… you caught the little rapscallion.” The baker huffed his breathing labored as he bent over his hands on his knees. Mella merely watched as he struggled to regain his breath keeping silent as he finally straightened his heart rate slowing as he caught his breath. He stared at her obviously expecting her to say something, yet she remained quiet all too aware of the attention the situation was giving her as passersby slowed watching the exchange inquisitively. He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat her silence undoubtedly putting him ill at ease. “Ahem…well, I thank you for your help miss. The scoundrel stole a loaf of bread from my shop and I’m much obliged…” he paused expecting an answer of some sort as he eyed the mentioned loaf that was held in the child’s hand. He reached out as if to take the boy and continued, “If you hand over the boy, I’ll make sure he learns his lesson and you can be on your way.”

At his movement, Mella took a step back almost as if she was protecting the young lad, and let her voice ring out calm, and clear, “I’m terribly sorry, sir, but that won’t be necessary. He is my nephew and is always getting into trouble. I’ll make sure he receives all that he deserves when I take him to his parents’ house.” The baker seemed at a loss for words, until a disagreeable expression took over his features. He opened his mouth to speak only to have Mella cut him off.

“Of course, you’ll be wanting payment,” reaching into her cloak with one arm still holding the boy in a vice grip, Mella extracted one silver Miza and handed it to the man, “For the bread and your trouble, sir. Now apologize darling.” Mella commanded the young boy her grip tightening slightly in warning. The boy glowered at the ground and muttered a ‘sorry’ sullenly to the man. Appeased, Mella nodded and looked towards the man, “Now if you’ll excuse me sir, we will be on our way.” She said turning away from him dragging the child with her.

The baker’s face clouded over however, and he called out to her angrily, “Now wait for just a chime! This boy committed a crime and I deserve to have justice carried out. Now I demand you hand the boy over or else I’ll call the Knights to see what they have to say about this scoundrel and the woman who claims to be a relative of his. No doubt you’re in shady business yourself despite your silver tongue.”

At his harsh words, Mella turned around to face him abruptly and putting the boy behind her she invaded his space forcing him to step back. Her voice took on a sweet tone, yet an undercurrent of anger and cautionary danger could be discerned, “Now sir, don’t you think that is unreasonable? The boy apologized and I have paid you four times the amount that this plain loaf of bread costs. You wouldn’t want your potential customers to believe you irrational,” she said giving him a dangerous smile causing him to stare wide-eyed at her sharpened canines. “Now, I would suggest that you go back to whence you came, sir. It would not be wise to leave your shop unattended.” She continued softly her voice housing an unspoken threat as she lifted her hood slightly to give him a view of her inhuman-golden eyes. The silent warning was clear enough and the baker paled. He nodded shortly, and walked away from the pair as quickly as he dared.

Letting her hood drop once more, Mella waited till the baker’s form had disappeared and then turned to the boy. Crouching so that she was at his level, Mella gently but firmly lifted his chin so his eyes met her own. The boy was pale-skinned or would have been if he hadn’t been covered in dirt, and his hair was a tangled, tousled brown. However, his eyes were a shocking, clear, blue compared to the dirty face from which they stared out of. Waiting till he had stopped fidgeting, Mella whispered fighting a small smile that appeared on her face, “Next time, don’t get caught.”

An impish grin was the only reply given to her, and she let him go watching as he scampered away into the crowds. Rising, Mella stood and brushed off the stray snowflakes on her cloak before looking around. A few bystanders who had lingered after the baker left looked at her with furrowed brows and Mella felt panic bubble inside her. She had taken a risk showing her canines and feral eyes to the man, but it had been her only way to make him back off. The people might not care if she was Kelvic, but she wasn’t willing to take that risk. Nervously, she tugged her hood lower, and melted into the shadows before walking at what she hoped was a casual pace all too aware of several gazes on her back.

[Calovan]

Keeping his head down and his eyes averted, Calovan drew little attention to himself thanks to his ragged, black cloak and hidden face. The shadows creeped over him like clouds on a windless day, and the chill in the air didn't even make him flinch. He would have liked to have gone to the south, where it was warm and sunny, but the flight would take quite some time, and that was time that he didn't have.

He raised his head and peered through coal black eyes at the pedestrians milling about on the streets. Most of them avoided him, either because they knew him to be "that Kelvic scout" or they believed him to be some sort of beggar or vagabond. Either way suited him just fine. He didn't like the company of bigots and fools to begin with, and the cold in the air was only serving to irritate him further.

He kept his hands clasped together in front of him under his cloak, and his otherwise unclothed extremities moved through the snow like hot metal- unyielding but silent. The night was still young, and the other sapient species about them were either leaving the pubs or heading home from their jobs. Syliras was well-known for its industrial habits, and when that was added to the fact that almost no one was unambitious in the city, it left little room for the workless drunk or... an unemployed, starving Kelvic.

One had to love Syliras, oh yes. How else would they endure the hub of trade and sin that was the home to the Sylirans? The entire place made him feel anxious and unwanted, and it interfered with his animal instincts. He always felt the odd urge to disrobe and take flight, but as he had discovered when he was just a boy, the locals tended to look down on naked Kelvics.

The sound of a crowd up the street drew his focus and he cautiously made his way towards the group. A boy was backed up against a woman in a dark robe similar to his own, only it wasn't in as bad of a condition as his. The boy clutched a loaf of bread to his chest, and the woman seemed to be protecting him from an over-weight baker who was demanding compensation for the broken laws. She moved gracefully towards the baker and he directed his hearing towards them to pick up on what she said.

Clever girl. She got her point across without directly threatening the man; that way, if he reported to the Knights, all he could complain was that she had advised him to to protect his shop and that she would be paying for bread. That wasn't a crime that he knew of, and she must have known it, too. Her eyes were a warm yellow, and her skin as white as his own. His avian eyes had captured her mouth moving when she had spoken to the baker, and he had observed her longer canines.

He began to piece things together. Abnormal eye color, smoother movements, elongated canines, and that certain something about the way she carried herself completed his look-over. More than likely, she was like him- a Kelvic. He hadn't encountered any of his own kind in ages; he longed for company. Ever since he left his murder of ravens, he'd felt the need for some sort of companionship. Perhaps she could alleviate this need for him.

He began to approach her when the baker left and the boy had gone, presumably, home, but she turned away and headed further down the road. Keeping pace with her wasn't difficult, he simply kept his long strides and he found himself caught up with her in a matter of moments. He tilted his head up and raised his hand up to signal her. His talon-esque fingernails glinted in the soft light, and he called out to her in his low but soothing tones.

"Wait! Don't leave, please. I saw what you did back there, for the boy. I want to talk with you. Nothing more."

[Mella]

She heard the footsteps behind her not long after she had walked away from the scene. Mella tried to quell the fear that threatened to overwhelm her and tried to restrain the urge to transform and flee. She couldn’t allow herself to transform. It would shred her only set of winter clothes and cause a scene more attention grabbing than before. She knew she shouldn’t have caused that spectacle. She should have just let the boy escape or handed him over to the baker. Her own recklessness was going to be her undoing. Someone was going to discover her, report her. Her journey was going to end before it even started. She would never feel complete. She would die alone. Her thoughts tumbled over each other racing in the span of only a couple moments. Taking a deep breath, her steps unconsciously increased their speed nursing the feeble hope that the person was just travelling in the same direction.

It was against her nature. She felt the wrongness of it as her instincts willed her to turn around and fight. She was a predator not prey, yet she was acting as if she was a weak rabbit. She did not doubt her prowess; she was quite certain she would be able to easily take down whoever was following her. It was just her doubt of her ability to stay inconspicuous along with her resolve to survive, and extreme caution that willed her forward. She could not risk being discovered, jailed, enslaved, or a combination of all three. She would not allow herself to be captured and sold like one would a rare trinket. Mella was not naïve, she had heard enough stories from her parents about Kelvics being captured when they least expected it becoming mere objects to those around them. She would never allow herself to become like that. She would rather die.

Her option to flee, however, was quickly deteriorating as the footsteps came ever closer. So making a split-second decision, Mella slowed down to a normal, human pace patiently waiting for her follower to either move on or approach her. She’d rather go down fighting, than fall in flight.

A man approached her, his hand raised in greeting, his strange nails catching the light. When he spoke to her, she glanced at his face wearily tearing her gaze from his hand that for some reason made her on edge. Sniffing the air, Mella paused in her movement her eyes widening slightly as his scent permeated her senses. He smelled like the wind, and feathers. An avian—most likely a member of the crow family because of his dark hair and eyes.

It was no wonder his nails had made her uneasy. The talons of a scavenger bird could easily gouge her eyes, or tear her flesh if she was greatly wounded. The birds were known for their diet of carcasses and wounded animals. Shivering lightly at the thought of being attacked by one, Mella’s eyes flickered back towards the form next to her.
He was tall. She was used to looking down at people because of her height, yet with him she had to do the opposite. It irritated her slightly that his physical presence was larger than hers. It made her feel vulnerable in her human form, but she took comfort in the feel of her kukri hidden beneath her cloak confident if need be she could buy herself several moments with it so she could transform. Satisfied with the extra protection, Mella continued her examination of the bird-man beside her.

He was slender…like her and looked like he could use a decent meal like most Kelvics, who either did not have the time or the resources to eat the sufficient amount to maintain a healthy body weight. His shaggy black hair fell to his shoulders and in the wind almost appeared to be feathers. His eyes were a deep brown, almost black, that were sharp and calculating as they took in her appearance as she did with him—both of them analyzing the other.

Her golden eyes glowed in the low light as she watched him, taking in every small movement, every blink of the eyes. Anyone intent on survival knew to assess the threat first, and so she remained silent at his offer regarding him wearily her mind running over several scenarios. He appeared harmless, but she knew from experience that anything could seem ‘harmless’, and she didn’t want to take that risk. She began shaking her head only to stop the movement just as she was about to start.

She was lonely. She had been in the city for several days already, yet had not once actually talked to anyone. The fierce need for a bond-mate only enhanced her isolation making it appear as if she was trapped in a large stone cage. Perhaps talking with this bird would alleviate some of the unrelenting pressure of seclusion that enveloped her. So despite her qualms, Mella said in a cautious voice, “Not here. The streets hear as much as they see.”

With that said, Mella set a brisk pace to the nearby tavern that she had often frequented the past few days. She favoured it for the lack of questions that one received there. It didn’t matter who you were as long as you paid, and so assuming that he followed her, Mella opened the door to the Rearing Stallion. It was dark enough to keep any of her more questioning characteristics in shadow and loud enough so that one could be assured that they would not receive unwanted listeners. If he chose not to follow her, she would continue entering and consume a meal alone. However if he was curious about the female Kelvic before him, Mella would lead the way to a table in a dark corner and gesture to the chair across from her.

After they were both seated, Mella would continue watching him unaware that her gaze could be unnerving to some. Her stare was cut-off however by the waiter that approached them and Mella ordered water and whatever meal the tavern had for the day. She never took spirits if she could help it. She did not want to be weak in any way especially when something could turn foul in a chime’s notice.

Waiting until he had ordered also and the waiter left, Mella broke the silence her voice perhaps a bit sharper than she intended, “What do you want, flight-master?”

[Calovan]

She beckoned him to the tavern, and he went without question. This woman had an alluring air about her that convinced him that he had to meet her. Her movements were light and quick, reminding him of a house-cat he once saw; but, if time and twenty years experience had taught him anything, A Kelvic's mannerisms were often misunderstood by others. Only animals could truly understand the logic and reasoning behind the actions of each other.

So when she led him into the Rearing Stallion and ordered water for a drink instead of alcohol, he began to assess his situation a little more closely. She was graceful and thought her actions through with precision. Intelligence in Kelvics, and the compasionate streak he had seen earlier, usually could be associated with more social animals like ravens, canines, or felines. Her physical appearance and gait implied that she was of the feline family, perhaps a larger cat than most, to be sure.

These thoughts were all conceived and processed in just a matter of seconds, and by the time she finished ordering her meal, he turned his gaze to the waiter and added,
"I'll have the same, if I may."
The waiter left and Calovan turned his eyes back to the woman as she referred to him as "flight-master."

So... she was as smart as she looked, after all. She already had figured out that he was a Kelvic and a bird. How endearing of her. He noted that her tone was anxious, and had the notes of slowly receding panic. Was she frightened before she discovered that he meant her no harm? If so, that would mean that she believed her actions to be contradictory to the public in Syliras. More than likely, she must have believed him to be an enraged spectator or a third party that had a grievance with her, and had been preparing to flee or fight. Judging by her speed of movement when he encountered her, she was still undecided.

"You are quite perceptive, huntress. You may relax now, if you wish. There is no need to be so nervous around me. I bear no ill-intentions toward you, truly."
He smiled despite himself and leaned on the table, looking around the room out of the corner of his eye.
"You seem new to Syliras. You should know that this city is not the most hospitable place for Kelvics, but a feline like yourself should have no problem making a place here. However... Do try to watch your step and your back. You know what they say about curiosity and the cat."

[Mella]

Mella did not give an answering smile to his. Her face was analytical and somewhat severe his words doing nothing to ease her tension. People could lie…lie very easily, and Mella tended to trust them based on their actions not their words. She had no reason to have confidence in him, and so she sat straight-backed on the edge of her seat ready to bolt if need be. He being a Kelvic did not lessen her distrust, either. If anything, it only made her more uneasy. She had a healthy respect for carrion birds from seeing their savagery first hand when she had lived among wolves for they sometimes (especially the ravens) would lead the pack to prey in exchange for a share. She knew they were an intelligent, sometimes manipulative, lot and she could not help but wonder if there was a hidden reason to his want to talk to her.

His last statement, however, made her eyes narrow slightly. “I am quite aware of the saying.” She said coolly her mind reading perhaps too deeply into his words. Was it a veiled threat? No, she had a feeling he was just advising her to act with more caution than before. Something that she knew she had to work on. She wasn’t usually so reckless, but seeing the little boy running had triggered something inside of her and she had acted without thought not caring about the consequences. She would have to proceed with more caution for next time she might not be as lucky.

“And, do I get to know the name of one who offers advice so freely?” she hedged leaning forward slightly her gaze unwavering as she viewed the man before her. “For what would a sage-like animal of feather be doing in a city such as this? I, have an excuse, seeing as felines make such great house pets.” She said a wry smile teasing the corners of her mouth. If he only knew what her true form was, she was sure he wouldn’t be as sure as to whether or not she would be able to assimilate easily. The image of a black panther roaming the streets of Syliras like a common alley cat made her smile widen further revealing her sharp canines, the low light making them glint predatorily.

“But, perhaps you should follow your own advice before handing it out.” She continued her voice taking on a teasing tone. “For all you know, this was a trap to lure you here and I have you right where I want you.” She paused, her expression turning flat as the waiter approached and set down their food, a glass of water and a bowl of beef stew each. Once the waiter left, her expression returned to its previous façade—teasing, and slightly self-mocking. “Complete control,” she emphasized taking a sip of water, “That is one of the main factors to a perfect trap.”

Her small speech finished, Mella turned her attention to the food in front of her. Popping a piece of beef into her mouth, she couldn’t help a small grimace that came over her face. She hated her meat burned, or at least it tasted burnt to her as she lived most her life eating it raw. She continued eating despite the fact chewing slowly as she glanced up at the man every so often watching him, ready to listen if he spoke.

[Calovan]

"I am called Calovan." He answered without any hesitation. "And while you may make a pleasant pet, my services are more of the... practical sort. I am looking for a bondmate, but have not found one in the ten years I have lived here. These humans are so predictable, so boring, and oh so irritating. I find myself more and more displeased with my environment as time progresses. However, in my time, I make a living as a scout for hunting parties. I live outside the city, though. Urban life is not to my liking."

He smirked as she told him that he could have walked into a trap. As a response, he simply replied,
"Ah. That is where you and I differ, my feline companion. You see," at this point, he drew his dagger from his sleeve in the span of a single heartbeat and had planted it firmly in the tabletop, "I am quite aware of my surroundings. Believe me when I say that if I deemed you a threat, you would never have seen me coming, nor would you ever find me. Having wings has its advantages, you know."

He left the large dagger embedded in the wood and leaned back.
"Control, you say. Correct me if I am wrong, but I find that more often than not, wildfires are caused by people who believe that they have everything under control. I do not put much stock in the preconceptions of control. However, strength is an ideal, a virtue. If it may be obtained through control, or vice versa, then you will find no objections coming from me."

[Mella]

Mella’s eyes flashed in the low lantern light at Calovan’s words, but the rest of her face otherwise remained a calm mask. She hardly spared the dagger now embedded into the table top a glance her focus trained on the man before her. His words, arrogance and total disregard for her skills of which he knew nothing of angered her. It was a blow to her pride that he would think himself so above her that he believed she would be helpless if he chose to attack. His attitude was perhaps in one light beneficial to her if the situation led to a confrontation. However at that moment, all it did was serve to irritate her reminding Mella of why she had stayed away from other people so long. “You underestimate me, Calovan,” she whispered the words. They were no more than a murmur on her lips as they glided through the air dangerously…cutting—a knife. A small shift in position, a light tap of her fingernails on the table, and the slight narrowing of her eyes were all subtle signs of her annoyance though they were so slight that most would not even give them a second thought.

“For all you argue about my statement, you seem to enjoy control yourself.” She continued. It was sadly ironic that for all his quarrelling he was executing his own power play, his own way to control the situation and even perhaps her reaction. Calmly, she took a sip of water enjoying his facial changes. She was such a reserved person herself that she was rarely able to see the play of emotions on another’s face. The subtle shifts in expression fascinated her, and she watched transfixed as one would hypnotized. A blinking of eyes, a slight curve in the mouth, a slight crease in the brow, all the signs fascinated her despite the fact that she was not quite able to link subtle signs to specific emotions. They sparked her interest perhaps because of her lack of human interaction when she was younger. However, a loud crash and noisy cursing came from the direction of the kitchen breaking her from the trance her head whipping towards the sound. Her eyes scanned the area quickly for the sign of threat reflexively, but seeing none she relaxed once again leaning against the back of her chair ready to continue her thoughts.

She gave pause collecting her tendrils of thoughts from where she had trailed off several moments before. “Your demonstration of the dagger was just another way to show power and maintain control,” she said indicating the sharpened iron that was still embedded into the wood. “You have effectively shown your skill, which if I was anyone else would have intimidated me therefore stopping any thoughts I might have entertained of attacking you giving you control of my actions. However, I am myself and therefore this little show-off display does not impress me. In fact, it leads me to wonder why a man of skill would need to prove himself for frivolous reasons. Quite contrary to what you intended, it almost makes me believe your skills are average if not below. Now let me impress on you that despite my appearance I would be quite able to defend myself against you,” she said her expression level and her voice blasé. Her attitude towards his actions was slightly condescending, but only because he had yet to prove himself worthy of her respect. Words would not impress her, nor would arrogant, useless slights of the hand. Only actions, attitudes, or innate behaviours that were acted on instinctively would give her a hint of how creditable a person was.

[Calovan]

Underestimate her? A fellow Kelvic and a hunter who he had just seen use her skills for the betterment of a single child? No, not underestimate. He simply thought her to be simply misguided about him. Then again, very few people ever bothered to spare him a second glance.

As she analyzed his actions, he smiled. Another reader, like himself? How grand. That was precisely the reaction he wanted from her.

He nodded and instantly his demeanor changed from serious to laid back.
"You're very good at reading the body. This seems to imply to me that you are intelligent, more so than most Kelvics, and that it has been a necessity in times past for you to be able to interpret the gestures and movements of others. You taking offense at my fake show of force would say that you view your own skills to be paramount, and that to even consider me on your level would be ridiculous. So, if there is anyone here that underestimates others, I think it would be you. Perhaps I am wrong, I am known to make mistakes. After all, no one is perfect. Though sometimes I wonder what it would be like if everyone was perfect..."

He took his knife out of the table and put it back in his sleeve. He watched her eyes for a moment and then drank some of his own water.
"Anyway, know that you know the disguised Calovan, let me introduce the real me. I believe we started off on the wrong foot... A pleasure making your acquaintance, Night-stalker."

[Mella]

She regarded him with a pensive gaze as he reintroduced himself her golden eyes peering from out of the gloom of her lowered hood, “Mella, they call me Mella.” She said quietly. It would not do for him to be calling her ‘night-stalker’ in public. People might jump to the conclusions that she was a thief or dangerous, which were both true on occasion, but they did not need to know that. Mella was not adverse to a bit of pick-pocketing here and there. She saw no wrong in it relating the action to surviving in a city version of a forest. It was a way to sustain oneself and to her it was not a crime. Her belief had even been portrayed earlier as she had not scolded the young boy, but had encouraged him to not get caught assuming there was a next time.

Moments passed and inhaling deeply, Mella memorized Calovan’s scent her pupils dilating slightly at the incoming rush of aromas. She could identify the almost contrasting odours that most Kelvics had when in their human form. There was the slight musk of male, a whiff of smoke perhaps from a camp fire or fireplace, and an essence of snow as if he spent much of his times outdoors. She could also smell his avian form. There was the whiff of fresh air, the slight musty smell of feathers, and the aroma of curiosity which had an almost nutmeg redolence. It took her a second to categorize the overall scent, yet she had the strange feeling as if she had encountered the same before. And with a start, the pieces finally interlocked and she realized why she had been weary more so than usual.

He was a raven. Perhaps one of the cleverest of birds she had encountered in her short life. The one reason she had tended to skirt around them was she had once encountered a raven attacking one of the rival pack’s wolf members as it lay wounded from a recent battle. She had since then classified them as a manipulative, dangerous species—one to avoid making deals with. But, perhaps she had been wrong, she thought. One could almost see an imaginary tail swish behind Mella as her thoughts increased her interest in the bird before her.

Leaning forward her eyes bright and wide with a wicked, feral grin on her face, Mella captured his dark eyes with her own golden ones showing assertiveness and excitement. “Are you a raven?” she asked eagerly her voice hushed in almost reverent tones for despite her discretion she had always found their clever brutality to be elegant, almost as beautiful as watching a predator stalk its prey quietly prowling through underbrush.

Her food forgotten and her eyes ablaze, Mella felt a torrent of questions rise up in her, but with all her self control reigned them in settling for one that had been itching to be voiced ever since his comment about being disguised. “What is the real you, Calovan?” she asked her body almost paralyzed as the thirst for knowledge took hold of her.

[Calovan]

"Indeed." He nodded to her, raising his glass to her in a complimentary toast. "I am a raven, as you have guessed. Might I ask what gave me away? Or are you simply that clever, hm?" He smiled lightly, glad that she had relaxed her hostile nature. He didn't like violence, truly. The fact that she was curious only made him like her more. A kindred spirit, perhaps?

"I hope you don't think of me too poorly based on that. Others tend me to view me as... a savage. It is not altogther uncommon for me to be discriminated against based upon my bestial nature."

He sipped his water and then propped himself up on his elbows as she leaned forward. He understood that she wanted to have their conversation inaudible. He could relate; humans weren't the most tolerable when it came to a group of Kelvics in any one place... Even if that group consisted only of two beings.

"The real me?" He repeated her question and smirked. "Well, that's something you'll just have to discover for yourself. First and foremost, however, is my desire for companionship. It gets lonely, you know, being an older Kelvic. Thankfully, Caiyha has blessed me with my raven body, and so I may fly wherever I choose. It is liberating, you could say. And what of you, Mella?"

He said her name in a curious fashion, like he was sampling the sound of it before he nodded and turned his gaze from the ceiling back to her own golden eyes.
"What secrets do you hold close, my dear?"