... According to this notch in the bark...
... She had grown...
Well, she couldn't measure and she certainly couldn't count, but it didn't look like very much. Ravens were notoriously large, but Sylvie hadn't felt herself to have quite the commanding presence she deserved; what could the problem be? Had she been malnourished? Weakened by higher forces so as not to reach her full potential, perhaps because it would have rendered her too dangerous?
Ruffling her feathers, Sylvie scowled.
She could swear she saw movement in the distance. Rain cascaded down her sloped beak as she squinted through the dim light and felt her frown deepen.
Motherfucker better not be coming for her tree.
HEY,she shouted through the storm.
HEY, BITCH. BETTER KEEP MOVING.
The raven puffed herself up.
THAT'S RIGHT. THIS IS MY TREE. SCRAM!

