On a sunny, cloudless June, or a dark, wet December, you can see him watching, glaring, waiting. One of the most intelligent but not the unremarkable of birds. Now overtaken in a sleek plumage of completely black, the full grown raven has arrived. With a cruel curve to its enormous, powerful bill: a long, wedge-shaped tail, covered in thick, shaggy feathers . His long, rounded wings extend nearly to the tip of his tail. He only soars, with the occasional flap, never to be mistaken with his inferior cousin the crow. A wild animal doing anything to protect himself, pushing rocks with his midnight colored feet, striking down onto enemies that seem to trouble its peace. One long gaze, brings a shudder down your back, knowing the capability