You blink. A raven just spoke to you. Or maybe now you suddenly understand ravens? Oh. You’re dreaming, that must be it. Okay.
“I see. What is the nature of the plot?”
The raven, ruffles his feathers in agitation.
“He spoke of leading the cursed HOA to thine door, my lord.” It pauses, then adds, in a more hesitant tone: “Though I am but a raven, so I am unsure what that is, other than a hostile flock. We heard you speak of them in utter disdain oft, and so we dared speak. My Lord.”
“Fucking Brent. Thank you for bringing this to me,…” er, what do you call- Fuck it, you’re dreaming, remember? “My good raven, although you need not have bothered. Mr Jones will get her comeuppance.”
The raven looks somewhat crestfallen. Your heart melts a little. You sip your coffee to buy time. Your hair stands on end as you realize something.
You’re not dreaming. You can’t smell things in creams, and the coffee you were sipping before this malarkey started is tickling your nose with its pleasant aroma. Well, fine. How?
You look at the raven and try to look cool.
“I am pleased by your care, though. You need not hesitate to speak to me. Come, let us speak of lighter things, to pass the time. How did it came that you specifically were chosen to speak?”
The raven’s eyes shine, and it croaks excitedly.
“I have studied the heraldry of your house since forever! It’s so cool to have a real Fae in the neighbour- ugm. I mean, I mean,” it ruffles anxiously. “Forgive my strange speech, Lord, I am but an simple-”
“Raven, yeah. It’s fine,” you interrupt. “What’s this about me being a Fae lord?”
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