The blackbird drops like a stone. Wings and tail barely twitching to make course corrections. With a dramatic, and audible, flare Kirpate dumps air-speed and lands daintily on Alfonso's wrist.
"Show off" mutters Alfonso.
"There are two houses in the swamp - one along the old Witch's Trail in the south. Another on the northern trail. This second house has a small jetty in the clearing around it. A middle trail seems to lead to a clearing where cook fires are sending smoke into the air. However I must admit to guessing about the cook-fires. All I actually saw was some smoke through the trees."
The blackbird's voice, though grating as is the voice of all ravens, is confident, measured and possesses perfect diction.