And there was enough interfering with her thinking as it was. For instance, there appeared to be a soliloquy going on past the open doors, just outside of eyesight. “Bird,” Claire said without looking up. The sound of dusty feathers fluffing up and resettling told her she’d been heard. “Is there a Shakespeare knockoff in the hallway, yes or no?” Hard claws tapped softly against metal as the raven shuffled along her perch on the back of the opposite chair. She cocked her head sideways, then made a sound akin to a tuba in mid-childbirth.
