Flitting from wall, to corral, to spear rack, and to wall again, Corvu followed the procession of men and harnessed beasts congregating in the courtyard.
The preparations of war, seen again and again through the years, never failed to arouse her curiosity. The noise! The excitement! The easy pickings! Why Men put themselves through such ordeals she had no idea, but times of war were always good times for carrion crows.
She cocked her head to focus on a group of men carrying a limp bundle of fur into the square. "Warg," she thought dismissively. "Orc-mount. Who do you think will ride you into battle here? Perhaps one of those half-men of the West my cousin Rôac spoke of?" She chuckled to herself. Corvu never cared much for Wargs. Mindless curs who had forgotten their true nature. It would be fun to snatch her food.
Then this "warg" spoke! Spoke to a woman, of all things, as if a woman in this land of Men do anything for her. Then she watched as this true wolf threatened and raged at the Captain of the Guard!
"Ah, dearie" said Corvu to herself, "best if you had listened more and spoke less. Never a good idea to let Men know you can speak. Makes them nervous."
Then she saw the mouse.
Oh, this was just too good! A mouse on the back of an Oliphaunt! All thoughts of talking wolves fled her mind as she considered the implications. She lifted herself to the back of the Oliphaunt in time to hear the brainless little chit make his introductions. Mice were so polite!
"Hi! My name is Fedwie. I am a mouse! I fell off the wall when they were taking you away. Where are we going?"
Corvu strolled up to the mouse and leaning down, whispered behind him: "You'll have to speak a little louder, small one. She's a little deaf in that ear."
Then she flew to the wall to watch the show.
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