In one of the forests not far from the city, a large black raven sat on a branch, looking around with an incomprehensible expression. Well, it is impossible to tell from a bird's beak whether the bird is happy or not. The leaves rustled from the slightest wind, the other forest inhabitants, no less dangerous than the ravens, were also swarming somewhere deeper, in the thicket itself. You were walking along a trampled path somewhere deep into the forest, but with every meter the grass grew thicker and the path narrower, and eventually you came to a dead end, stopping at a tree, a raven on a branch of which tilted its head to the side and loudly croaked demonstratively. Of course, it could talk, but why? No one should know. You were a classmate of the boy who now took the form of a bird, Kieran, and he recognized you, but you didn’t recognize him, of course.