Tulo flapped into the air with a faint squawk, trailing after Ragnar.
"How about a little warning next time?"
The raven flapped into the air toward the guards, attempting to get their attention turned away from the group.
Fly past the tower and then up on the other side, making noise, trying to get them to look away from the group's approach.
From the grey sky a black shape returned, another dark bird.
It was Tulo, the former familiar of Khor Norland, who's spirit had joined Ragnar's entourage. The bird had become lost in the flock, but returned now to land on Ragnar's broad shoulder. It had an in it's beak. It laid the gruesome trophy down in the yeti pelt.
"I got it back." the bird squawked.