Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

It was hard not to notice them as they neared, the flock of ravens. He hadn't seen any birds and then now, there was a whole slew of them. For a few panic-stricken heartbeats he thought that his former group had tracked him down. That they'd crossed the waters just to find him and bring him to trial or execute him or both. However, before he thought to take off, he saw that he didn't recognize any of these birds. They were completely unknown to him which was a relief. He wouldn't be hunted down and killed today.

Or maybe he would be. If they were horribly territorial, anyway.

However, that didn't seem to be the case as he watched them all warily with wings half-spread, ready to fly at any moment if they seemed to be turning on him. Instead though, they all took a great interest in a wolf. A white one with a lovely dark head, as dark as any raven's feathers. The same went for her tail, dark as night. Neat.

She didn't seem aggressive to him either. Nor did she mind as the ravens flitted about her head and those antlers. Were they connected? He leaned forward, head tilting this way and that as he peered closer. He blinked at the other ravens, looking back as they looked at him. None of them seemed aggressive still and so, he let his wings rest at his sides. No longer poised to make a hasty getaway. "Krakarak never has seen straight-line-stones like this. Is different! Krak!" He explained, using a purple talon to tap the stone. "The cold make Krakarak think of home!" You know, before it got all terrible and murdery... Although, brave? He clacked his beak appreciatively at that. Yes. Yes he was quite brave. "Yours? Krakaw? You speak Corvid Tongue? Krak? Make friends with ravenfolk?" The curiosity could clearly be seen in those beady purple eyes as he looked from the wolf to her ravenkin. "All friends?" The question seemed to be posed not only to her but to her ravens at large.