The valravn snorted and took a drink of his own whiskey. It was good stuff, but he usually found himself craving cigarettes after being in an agitating situation. His shapeshifting came with clothes, but not other items, unfortunately. "I do almost miss people crossing themselves whenever they see me." he noted with a touch of near-melancholy. "You would never have fuckin' caught someone in Scandinavia trying to touch a valravn a century or two back, not even on a dare. Or any raven. How have humans still survived if they've evolved past the instinct to not grab a huge, hostile bird?"