Thar Shaddin

Quenta coasted on a heat thermal over the city. In his beak, a grey card made a flupping noise. It took Quenta some time to reorient himself on the concepts of streets and building names. An aerial view offered a different perspective from walking the streets. Every now and again, he would perch on a sign to get his bearings.

Finally, he found his destination and carefully situated himself on a window ledge. Peering into the window he saw her. She wore many sparkly things and was gilded by sunlight filtering through an ornate, larger window perpendicular to the one he'd chosen. Quenta surveyed Sibilla from several angles, his head jerking sharply first tilting left, then right, then sharply right as he eyeballed her with his left eye. Her hair was golden and long. She was slimly built. She was surrounded by books, a little frown furrowing her brows as she worked on something. A pen moved, swaying back and forth.

So ... sparkly and glowy. Quenta was enchanted.

Quenta hopped off the window sill and coasted to the ground. He carefully surveyed the area for cats or dogs, before strutting along the building's edge. No, nothing jumped out at him that said "this is a good place to put the card." He didn't want it to get dirty or destroyed by water. With a push of his legs, Quenta flew back to the sill. WIth the card in his beak, he began to tap at the window.

Tap, tap, tap. Would she notice? He was not a small bird, but a very, very large raven.

So... sparkly. Quenta paused to survey Sibilla between his series of taps on the window.

Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap.

In his head, he hummed a little tune to himself - "Open up sparkly, glowly princess, oh yes oh yes, tappy tappy tap tap."

The sounds were more like gurgles, but he'd been a raven for so long it didn't sound odd to him.

Tap. Tap, tap...

Tap, tap, tap.

Engrossed in her work, the sound swept right over Sibilla's head, which itself was swarmed with so many names and dates, and all the problems that had arisen earlier that morning. As always, complaints passed around, at times aimed at her, and other times by her; but it felt as though, at moments like these, that more problems were being created and none of the past ones solved.

Tap, tap, tap.

"You need a break," her sister had said. "Take some time off t--"

Tap, tap.

She sat upright as something roused her suddenly from her thoughts. "What is that noise?" she murmured aloud. A raven's song finally turned her attention towards the window, and she almost jumped at the sight of creature. She had never seen a raven so big, and it eyed her quite purposefully through the glass.

Tap. Tap, tap...

Placing her pen down carefully, wary of spilled ink, she eyed the bird back. It held something in its beak; a note of some sort? Was it a messenger bird? As Sibilla stood from her desk, the layers of brightly coloured cloth and jewelry swayed with each subtle movement, the light playing off the shiny metals and her silken skirts. Her pale feet were visibly bare as she made her way across to the window and peered out at the bird. She was hesitant to let the thing in, but he seemed quite adamant.

Twisting the lock open, Sibilla lifted the window and took a quick step back.

Ah! The sparkly princess moved with fluid grace! Quenta hopped back and forth across the ledge happily, pausing only to tap a few more times on the glass as his Lady Fair stared at him through the glazed window.

When she opened the window and stepped back quickly, Quenta walked right in. With a hop-flap, he landed on her desk and placed the grey card down. Looking to his Sparkly Princess, he made a sound,

“Quork?”

So, the first step had been made, at least. She’d let him in. He waited to speak. He didn’t want to terrify her too much. Instead he nudged the card he’d placed on her desk. Had she received one, too? Quenta wasn’t sure, but he thought both parties received the cards.

Sibilla wasn't sure what she'd expected, but the raven still managed to surprise her as it made its way into her office and perched itself on her desk. The same desk on which rested piles of important -- no, vital -- paperwork. Her hesitation at approaching the creature was forgotten entirely as she stepped quickly across to arrange the paper in such a way that the bird might not have a chance to ruin them. He was eager to have her read his note, but he could wait. At least now she knew the raven was indeed a messenger.

"Please, bird, not here," she pleaded quietly, hoping it was smart enough to get the idea. She gestured gently with a hand for him to shoo from the desk and find another perch, gold bracelets clinking softly with the motion.

Quenta cocked his head to one side then the other as the lady moved the papers away from him. The clink and glow of the bracelets mesmerized him for a moment, but her soft entreaty moved him.

"Mmhm!" was what he said, but it was said in a raven-y kind of way.

Quenta surveyed the room and noted a shelf nearby. With a leap and a brief flap, he landed on the shelf. With a few hops, he turned to face the woman, waiting expectantly for her to read the card. First, she'd have to accept that her date was with a man turned raven.