[i]Graiai remains unconscious.[/i]

In the blackness of the night, a crow darted through the air with its feather-laden wings spread wide. Starting with a sudden dive, the bird flapped its wings about gradually slowed its own descent, until finally laying its claws and perching on a shoulder.

Revan's shoulder.

The crow seemed to be some pet of the man, or at least that's what many think so. But it neither recognized the brash and cocky security guard as its owner, nor it was a familiar summon from a magician's point of view, for it merely wanted to look at things up close. And yes, it has a mind of its own.

Why are we even narrating about this crow?

Because it's Catherine Macbeth, some manipulative bloodsucking girl who is observant as of right now to get some little tidbits of knowledge about these people. 

And most likely use it accordingly for her own needs.

But right now, she'll keep on watching.