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As the feral shuddered, the silence only broken by his rasping breathing, the magpie seated on his shoulder watched the waiting warriors with eyes that were far too aware and intelligent in such a simple creature. The pool of blood around the feral seemed to widen and many of the warriors relaxed, thinking that they had killed the blonde beast and all was well. "Move aside!" A voice called from the back of the formation and Fandral's head shot up. "The King comes!"
At that the formation parted to allow their King to step forward though Fandral dared not move from where he cradled Sif's broken body. Odin barely paused as he passed the blonde warrior, his gaze locked on the bloody scene before him. "Take her to the healing chamber." Odin commanded and Fandral nodded, his lips going tight. He had every intention of doing just that, even without the King's command. With that Odin continued walking, his staff ticking against the cobblestones ominously as he approached the fallen Sabertooth. "It would seem that this creature is another bedevilment sent to us by Loki...at our time of loss."
Fandral gasped in shock then remembered the glowing green eyes of the bird and how it aided the blonde killer even now. Suddenly, all of the clues made sense. Loki once more was the cause of death and suffering in Asgard. "The bird, my lord..." Fandral began and Odin simply held up a hand to silence him.
"The bird is of no consequence. Merely a construct to do the Trickster's bidding and frighten you." Odin informed and Fandral let out the breath he'd been holding in a short huff.
"But...it seemed to have some sort of power...to guard that...thing." He continued and Odin's teeth bared.
"Silence!" The King commanded in a sharp hiss. “The bird means nothing!” He bellowed and Fandral reeled back in shock. Somewhere in the shocked silence there was a brief flutter of wings that once more drew Fandral’s attention to the magpie perched on Creed’s shoulder.
“Liiiiiies.” the bird said in a hoarse drawn out caw, wings fanned out over Creed’s fevered flesh. “Death!” it croaked once more in a powerful cry that made Fandral jump and raised the hairs on his arms. A moment later he felt his stomach lurch in disgust as the bird lowered its head and pecked at the wound in Creed’s neck, plucking out little tidbits of tissue that quickly disappeared down the bird’s gullet. “Deathdeathdeath.” It chirped almost happily as it lowered its head again to continue its feeding.
“You see? It is no foretelling of Asgardian doom. It is merely the only word in this creature’s head.” Odin assured with a low chuckle. Fandral still felt a niggling of doubt as he watched the bird. The power he had seen was not of mortal origin and seemed to accompany the avian presence. Odin moved closer to the dying feral and felt a small self-assured smile curve his lips. “It would seem Loki has led you astray, mortal. Asgardians are not so easily felled as he would have you believe.”