"Anything- they’re not picky birds." The spirit called back.
Mal would honestly be more worried someone was out here alone, these crows are accustomed to eating flesh. This girl, this woman could be in serious danger if these bird couldn’t eat.
Elsa whimpered lightly when the cawing seemed shriller, harsher as though they were responding to the mans voice. She flinched, nearly jumping out of her skin when she noticed three on the railing of her balcony. They were odd little birds, though beautiful. Their feathers glossy black, darker than the very night sky. Their eyes, beady and glassy were shining red and ravenous as though they'd like to tear her apart where she stood. One even got brave enough to nip at the train of her dress, its "sharp beak cutting open a small gash on her leg.
❝Ow!❞ she hissed, nearly stumbling over herself as she headed back towards the castle. The stinging burned a fire up her leg, Elsa muttering to herself about how she always seemed to hurt herself even when she was doing nothing at all. Returning to the balcony before the birds could even think about coming into her home, the blonde scattered the bagful of breadcrumbs to them in hopes that maybe the din would die down.
❝ I assume this'll pacify them?. ❞ she asked the man; he seemed to be the crow expert.
