Give up the ghost

 He was on the search for food, away from the king in the north where the snow never went away. His wings were stretched wide as he glided across the snowy landscape. He could spot this and that. A herd moving in unison, a rabbit digging into a burrow, even wolves travelling and searching for this and that.

 What was of interest though, was a lone caribou. It was limping terribly, legs shaking and head low as it looked close to collapsing. He circled down lower, eyes narrowing in on the soon-to-be casualty. Any moment now it would drop dead and then he would--

 Oh! There it was.

 He circled in closer, noting that it was sickly and old, huffing and staring off into space as it took its final breaths. With a caw of absolute delight, the raven dipped his wings and landed, not too far away from the beast. He stared into its gaze, noting the vacant stare. Yes, so close.

 Although he wouldn't be able to open this by himself... lame. He might have to go find Ragnar to help him out.

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Ah, such perfect timing; a time that was a top ten favourite in Maeves’ category. Worth it’s literal weight in gold, was the caribou that had run out of juice that had fed its pointless life.

She’d only been passing the area, heading south as the Autumn flooded its way through the rest of this world, but having an easy, effortless feast just sprawl out ahead of her, well... her jowls had already formed a liquid that would increase as her appetite was whetted once more.

She’d note the scavenger that was the bird, but it wasn’t abnormal to have those in waiting. And, of course, it’d have to wait its turn as Maeve saw it.

She closed the distance between them all, and it appeared the reindeer had not yet passed.

With a flash of fangs, she wasn’t too disturbed by the vulture of a an avian, but chose to alert him of her presence, ‘Move, bird’, she said almost dismissively, so she could puncture and wrap her canines around the airways. To still the prey for good.

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 Ah, it didn't seem to be a wolf that would be aiding him in his dinner today. Instead, it was a feline of some sort. He didn't particularly care about the specifics of leopards and cougars and tigers. They were all stupid land-dwelling felines to him. Although in this instance, she was a godsend. He was content to just sit there, at first.

 Until she spoke in a most rude manner.

 How dare she?!

 Krakarak let out an annoyed croak and flapped up into the air, out of reach as he yelled at her, "Don't talk to Krakarak like that! He deserve respect!" He couldn't stand rudeness in anyone else but himself! Really! Dumb non-fliers should learn that just because they could throw their weight around, it didn't mean anything!

 He flapped over to the far side of the kill, away from her where he landed on the snow and glared at her. He would let her know that he didn't appreciate that rude, dismissive tone with his glowering purple eyes.

 The actual audacity was astounding!

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Perfectly carved ivories were posied to set upon the inferior beast, with it in quiet waiting for its easy death path, but as nature guided her to its jugular, feathers and flapping caught her off-guard and she half-flinched and ducked, allowing her reflexes to go about their motions. Though upon realizing it was the minor protests of the avian, her ears flattened at them.

 
‘Fucking blackbird’, she muttered. It came out in the very same knee-jerk action as her prior defensive movement. When the rasps of croaks brought the most unpleasant of noises to her ears, her attention had then discarded the poor caribou that was seemingly in as much distress as the raven.
 
‘And why is that, bird? When you the prey and I the predator?’, her flat feminine voice questioned him, or her, she wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Her thoughts caught up within that processing moment, wondering if this is the first exchange she’d had with a feathered species.
 
With the little, minuscule respect she had for the bird, Maeve turned her focus over to the caribou that had started to shift slightly, perhaps to flag the feline over to him to aid in his quick death. And so, she crouched to puncture and restrict its airways while the parrot-thing no doubt squawked some more at her.

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 Over the croaks and caws of his own voice, he didn't hear the "blackbird" comment. Which was probably well and good because he was never good at being referred to as a different bird than he really was... but that's neither here nor there.

 Why did he deserve respect? WHY DID HE DESERVE RESPECT? The NERVE! The absolutely HUEVOS! How DARE she? Why he ought to... ought to... not attack her because he liked living, thank you very much, but he should TELL HER about herself! "Krakaw! Kaw! Because this Krakarak! He deserve respect cause--cause--" OOOHHH HE WAS SO MAD! "CAUSE HE KRAKARAK THAT WHY!" Smooth. That was the best explanation anyone ever gave to anything. She should be groveling on the ground kissing his beautiful tail feathers! Actually, gross. He didn't want leopard lips on his tail. She could grovel and admire him and tell him how beautiful he was.

 Except that wasn't happening.

 While the leopard was distracted with ending the caribou, Krakarak hopped a liiitttlllee closer. He was keenly aware of how easy it was to kill a raven when you were one of these huge animals. "You never find this deer without Krakarak! Krak!" He said smugly, staring at her with beady eyes. Taking credit for something that he hadn't actually done. He was just used to wolves usually kissing his ass about how awesome ravens were to leading them to kills. So, he assumed the leopard had done the same thing.

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The lingering ticks of its heartbeat were felt via her dainty whiskers. The final vibration was the tell-all of its soul abandoning the now corpse. Meanwhile, the raven continued its dance. A side-eye watchful, whilst his riot ensued, she wouldn’t have been surprised if her maliciousness was rewarded with a sharp claw or two on her unsupervised hind and she made sure she could see him to brace for this, as the few moments she was occupied, there wouldn’t have been much she could do about it. The blackbird seemed smart, at least, as he avoided this.
 
Unable to give him a vocalized response to his accusation, or assumption, her eyes narrowed upon his own tiny beads, and she dropped her ears, growling at him with teeth clenching tighter around the caribous’ airways.
 
She kept herself busy, dropping the neck with an inelegant thud, and moved to the meal of its stomach. Laying down and licking at the exposed skin, rasping it to thin it out, before she would be able to puncture through to the still-warmed goodness.
 
‘I don’t need a feathered, bird-brained fool to link me to a kill, perhaps the wolves here do, but I work alone’.
 
Her eyes closed, and a low purr gurgled within the hollow profounds of her larynx. Unfazed by the bird still and his… performance.

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 The leopard narrowed her eyes at him with a growl and that was enough to get him to hop back a couple of steps. He was so very aware of his own mortality... he was also not the bravest raven out there. Angry. But not brave. It didn't help when she let go of the beast's neck and moved. Uh oh. Was she about to come after him?!

 But no, she moved to the stomach to begin eating. The sight of her opening up the kill for him, well, it made him even hungrier. He clacked his beak together in anticipation as he hopped a few steps closer. Eyes on the prize. Wha--?!" He said, indignant to her words. Worked alone? Didn't need him? Rubbish! "All ground-meat-eaters need birds! We smarter! Kraw! We see further! How else you find this? Kraka!" He said in his very loud, very croaky voice. Ugh, what was that weird noise she was making? It was so weird!

 "Stop gurgling! You too loud! Krak Krak!" Pot. Meet kettle.

 Although to the feathered fiend, his voice was beautiful music while her rumbling was just a noise of irritation.

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Cerulean blues vanished behind sealed lids, grooming contentedly at the now exposed organs. Each tongue-lick coated with a generous amount of the crimson juice. Her delighted purrs were her portrayal of how satisfied the obnoxious kitty was in this moment, with the bird nothing but a distant radio or violin as the backdrop to her dining. 

His over confidence was comical at least.

'...not to mention you're also handy as a night-cap snack', she hinted as though he missed one last thought of the umpteen reasons he specified as being... needed. She ignored the latter remark, as the raven was indeed the first point she noticed, before the struggling antlered-beast. Though Maeve wasn't to admit this to the bird.

Once the comment came of her happy noises, her lids unbolted and those cold orbs sourced the corvid. Ears tightened to her skull and she let out a bad-tempered hiss, slapping a paw out to strike at the snow between the two, that sent little fluffs of the powder skyward from the impact, letting the raven know of her disliking to his criticism.

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 A snack? A SNACK?! Why he never! "RUDE!" He cawed loudly at her, fluttering his wings and hovering briefly into the air before dropping onto the snow again. Clearly, he was very peeved. He was not a snack! The very notion was quite insulting, really.

 Of course, he didn't have too much time to contemplate just how insulting because he had an angry kitty coming at him. Or at least, from Krakarak's panicked eyes it looked like she was launching at him with the intent to kill. He screeched loudly in his native tongue as he took off into the air, "Окън! Шге ъьшчя ждхе пьа!" — "Fuck! The cat's gone mad!" He made sure to get out of her range of her kitty paws as he circled high above her with snow clinging to his belly from her "assault".

 "How dare you?! Krakaw! You could have hurt Krakarak!" He croaked from the safety of the air. A brave bird, he was not. "No one want to hear kitty gurgling! Krak Krak!" He wouldn't even think about coming down again until her attention was firmly on that deer.

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The mean girl sneered as her comment hit one of the ravens nerves, just as intended. His temper was now rather amusing to the feline, deciding to use him as her jester, her entertainment for the meanwhile.

They were not dissimilar, she'd pensively concluded, watching him recede from her warning to him; the black birds foul atittitude and limitations equated her own.
It was rather unlikely she'd kill the bird anyway, whilst she threatened him as a mere snack, she would soon enough have far too much of the reindeer in her stomach to manage engaging in chase of the winged creature.

'That would be such a pity, wouldn't it?', she drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she delved back into the exposed carcass. 'I'll aim for you beak next time, to stop that fucking awful screeching you make'. Her ears had remained taut against the solid frame of her skull, attempting to drown own its tuneless singing.

Between mouthfuls, and Krakarak voicing his thoughts, she addressed his comment that earned him a mitt striking at him before. 'Then fly away, and go bother one of your disgusting mutts'. Though true to a corvids nature, she knew he was likely to hang around stubbornly, persistently until he got what he was here for.

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 Such a pity it would be indeed! The sarcasm was lost on him as he huffed in agreement, thinking that the cat had come to her senses... until she spoke again. "IS NOT AWFUL SCREECHING! KRAKAWA! KRAKAW!" He screeched awfully at her. "Is beautiful! Krakarak has beautiful voice!" Bah! She was just a dumb cat! She would never understand the beauty of a raven's voice. Her intellect wouldn't allow it! Close-minded ruffian! "Krakarak voice sound better than dumb kitty sounds!" He said haughtily.

 He hopped this way and that. Looking as if he were trying to find a way to weasel into the carcass without alerting her to what he was doing. He hopped closer, noticing a bit of entrail that had flopped towards him. It was mere inches away from the cat's rear paw but he locked his eyes onto it. "MAKE KRAKARAK!" He cawed back obnoxiously. He would lock his eyes onto her, watching to see if she would make good on his combative words or if she would ignore him.

 Depending on that would depend if he would inch a little bit closer. Not hopping this time but walking, carefully.

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She could not fasten her ears closer to her skull, and the villain tried, to drown the high-pitched off-key unwanted songs the bird would serenade to her with annoyance. The enjoyment of his vexation now was being outweighed by the caws of the raven, and she finished her last mouthful of an organ or two. The fresh corpses' blood, still running freely and bleaching into the pure snow, also caked and masked her entire face, completely her overall sinister look as she turned to face the vermin that baited her still. 
 
Another paw flung toward him, slapping at the snow and teasing a spray of it toward the bird once more, a louder growl pushed through her parted jowls, and merlot-stained teeth bared at him -- his final warning.
 
To give the raven a further impression of her irritation, she stared him down before rising and moving toward him, away from the kill. She'd now had her fill from it, and decidedly would take her leave, assuming the only real reason the annoying corvid was lingering was certainly not for the pleasurable company, but of course, for the large remains for him to dine upon.
 
She sat beside the deceased caribous' head and began to lick at her paws, enjoying the remnants of juice still vibrant from her victim.
 
'Are you a loner, much like myself?', she seemed more at ease now her belly was fuller, but she wouldn't let him be fooled dare he try to attempt something so reckless or push her any further. She was only pausing momentarily, to allow her feast to settle within the nest of her stomach before she'd continue her trek. Her question came after the realisation of the lack of other ravens, where there was one there would surely be another.

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 Oh crap. Oh Jeez. OH FUCK! She was coming for him! First was the paw which he hopped back away from but then, then she stared at him and then came right at him! He cawed, clearly panicked as he took into the air and expected her to jump up after him. "KRAKARAK SORRY! KRAK KRAK! He joke! He kid! Ya!" He croaked down at her, absolutely scared that she was really going to make good on her nonverbal threats and his bravado to actually "make" him shut up. Fortunately, when he looked back down at her it seemed that she'd flopped down to groom herself. He heaved a silent sigh of relief, she was reclining and not looking up to wait for him.

 The raven would dive down to land on the caribou's rear, as far away from her as he could get while still being able to feed. "Krakarak only playing. Cats know jokes, ya? Krakaw!" Really though, he hadn't been playing but he would say anything to save his own hide and placate the cat so that he could eat. Point made. She really would destroy his soul. "Krakarak travel with Ragnar and his hatchlings and female Ragnar. all wolfs." He said in between pecking. He would keep one wary eye on her and this time, his mouth would be kept in check after that last scare. "He no travel with his raven tribe no more. Krak! Krak! All stupid morons! Dumb, annoying! Krakarak better off without them!" The real reason was because he was a know-it-all and he irritated them but in his own mind he'd spun it to be the other way around. Go figure.

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There definitely was a lapse in time where the cat had contemplated reaching for the nuisance with unsheathed claws. To bat him or perhaps if she were lucky enough to have caught him, to swing the raven back down to earth and embed him into the snow. Alas, whilst the vicious-tempered feline had a fleeting thought of this, she could not be really bothered. The bird, the pain that it was, it was not worth her energy. She did chuff at his ridiculousness, his unmasked bravado.

He flew to settle himself on her leftovers. There was still plenty there, enough to feed a tribe of wolves, and without a doubt, they would soon make their presence be known, from the lingering fresh scent of blood, that would entice them all to it like the perfect perfume that it was.
'Your sense of humour is diabolical', her mutterings were followed by an eye-roll, continuing to lick at her paw and swiping over her cheeks where the merlot fluid still persisted.

She took a pause when he gave the information she asked for, not realising he would actually give her a straight answer. It made sense now why he baited the horrible cat so, clearly favouring the dominant species that surrounded her world. With a crease forming between brows as her clear distaste for his revelation. 
'I would have given you an ounce of respect if only your latter words described who you choose to sit with', her ears were brought down taut against the clouded fluff of her skull. 'What's in it for you?'. Perhaps it wasn't for the reason she initially thought, that he liked them. Maybe it was purely business. Even so, this didn't excuse him.

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 His humor was... diabolical? He eyed her, unsure whether it was a compliment or not. In the end he decided to take it that it was for why wouldn't it be? His humor was nothing less than amazing, even when it wasn't supposed to be humor in the first place. He figured that she was completely duped by his words and was now showering him in praise, as was his due. So, he smiled gave a pleased croak and dived back into the meal. He snapped up pieces of flesh and swallowed them down whole, staining his beak and feathers red with blood. He would deal with such stains later on.

 Now, it was time for feasting.

 She spoke to him, remarked on his previous words and he lifted his head to look at her. Clearly, he was confused as he tried with his broken knowledge of the common tongue to piece her words together in some meaning. "Why Krakarak choose to dine with annoying beasts? Wolfs not annoying. Krakaw! Wolfs good fellows." She made no sense to the bird and he dismissed what she said about "respect" with those words.

 Then the next ones, he understood quite easily. He grinned slyly at her, "Krakarak get free food! And--" Not only did he get praised and pampered but, "This Ragnar's pack, they worship Krakarak!" That was the most important thing. He felt like a god there! Or a messenger to a god, whatever, it was close enough. It stroked his ego and gave him a head the size of a blimp. "They say ravens close to gods! Like messengers or something like this, ya! Krak!" What more could the conceited bird want or need?

 "Jealous?" It wasn't as if she had anyone worshipping her, after all.

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Whilst the raven swallowed his beak-fulls, Maeves' tongue lapped still at the traces that clung to her heavy paws, not wanting to leave any bloody impressions behind her in the snow only to be followed or stalked by something believing her to be injured or weak. One pest for the day was enough, and they were already one too many.

A sound as quick as the satisfying crack of a whip snapped through the little space between his replies, a laugh at his notion of wolves being good fellows. This was indeed the first joke of his she would find to be humorous, albeit it obviously wasn't his intention.

As the rest of his words came, by the end of each she nearly had tears pooling at the corners of her eyes, her cackle borderline hysterics. 

'Oh such fun', she finally calmed herself, bringing a mitt to wipe the tears from her eyes. She didn't care if the bird caught on to the fact she was laughing at him rather than with him, or if he would understand at all why she was laughing.

'Jealous? Of being a pet?', her laugh now muted and a cruel smile was the sealed end to fit.

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 She laughed at him although Krakarak couldn't understand why for the life of him. He paused eating, looking at her with his head tilting to first one side and then the other. What, what was so funny? Had he made a joke? Or maybe she was laughing at the notion that the wolves were so keen to follow him? Or maybe because wolves needed someone else to follow? That was humorous in and of itself. He began laughing too, a croaking cackle as he joined in on the fun. Not realizing that it was being had at his expense and not the wolves'.

 He was never the best at picking up on things unless it was spelled out to him.

 Although, now, when she called him a pet, he was much less amused. "Krakarak no pet! He respected and honored! Krak! He from the gods!" Did he really believe all that silly nonsense? Well, yes and no. Yes, because it made him feel important and no because well, he didn't really believe in gods per se... but he would certainly go along with it and say that he did if it meant that the wolves that him far more important than he really was. It stroked his ego just the right way. "He amazing and the wolfs see so. Kraw!" And then he dived back into the carcass, biting his tongue so he wouldn't add "unlike you".

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Her laughs had since mellowed, the cawing of the ravens' own was heard too, but they had gone ignored, for sure she knew her reasons for laughter and joy on this bitterly rare occasion did not match the birds. The feline couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so. 

Not one for taking social queues, making up her own as she went along in life, she was about to take her leave after her comment, though the raven disturbed this path she was to take. She chuffed at his remark, her doubt smeared across her face, worn just like the blood split from the caribou.

'Sure', her sarcasm was surely not going to be bypassed and undetected by the avian. She wouldn't care either way. She was more than done now with the raven and his ridiculousness, and the obnoxious beast turned to leave without any warning she was. She had a place to be and wanted to get back on the move.

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 "Sure". Now, he was no expert or anything but he was certain that that was sarcasm. Was she making fun of him? He watched her form retreating through narrowed eyes and he croaked out in his cawing tongue, "Яшкзса удип-фиьсхеа ъьшл." — "Stupid worm-brained cat." Words that would mean nothing to anyone except for birds that would understand his native tongue. So, he continued to eat until he was finished and could see other carrion birds starting to gather in the sky. It was time for him to go, lest his previous tribe show up and make his life difficult. Time to head back to Northfall where he would have his wolves and their love for him to keep him sustained.

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