A MURDER AND AN UNKINDNESS
Mikael tackled his sister as she came within range. The kits rolled in the grass, their voices piercing the air with their squeaks of excitement. Their mother lie on the cement patio, watching. Before he could do more than just roll with his sister, two of his brothers added themselves onto their rolling pile. Mikael bolted away from the writhing mass of fur and laughed as they continued to play among themselves.
"Kits, your uncle is here." Mikael's mother called to him and his siblings. The kits immediately stopped what they were doing and looked over to the hole in the wooden fence. A brown and white tom pushed his way through the planks, though his girth gave him a bit of trouble getting through.
"Uncle Mocha!" The kits swarmed him. He'd always had the best stories to tell. Mikael himself never grew tired of them, even if he heard them hundreds of times. Before their uncle even had a chance to greet his nephews and nieces, the kits shouted nearly in unison.
"Tell us about the Forest Cats again!" "Kits! Let him get some water first! He's tired!" Their mother scolded them. Mocha shrugged his shoulders, but he was panting and looked at the water bowl by the door longingly. Mikael obediently gave him space while his siblings followed close behind him. Once Mocha had lapped up some water, he plopped his fatty rump down on the patio.
"Caaawwwww!!!" A black bird swooped low overhead and Mikael instinctively dropped to his belly. Luckily for him the crow wasn't interested in the kits. He glared at it as it flew off and landed at the top of a tree in the next yard. Mikael's mother got to her feet and watched the bird closely... something about the way she stood put the young male kit on edge. She was stiff...
"Alright, I'll make you a deal little ones," Mocha said, obviously oblivious to the crow. Mikael stared at the bird for just a moment longer... long enough to watch it snap it's head back in the kit's direction.
And then it just stared.
"I'll tell you about the Forest Cats, but you've got to wait until the very end of my other stories. I have some new ones!" Mocha proudly proclaimed. A mixture of groans and "ooooo's" from the kits ensued. As Mocha began a story about some obnoxious dog chasing the cars on the road, Mikael's mother made her way to the only kit not sitting around the fat tom.
"The bird is nothing to be afraid of," She reassured Mikael and gave him a lick on the head. The kit took his eyes off of the crow and stared at his mother seriously.
"Are you sure?" He asked, remembering the way she stiffened up at the sight of it. Another
caaaawwwww rang out from a second crow. Mother and kit looked up at the sky and watched as it flew to the first one and landed beside it.
And then both crows had their eyes on Mikael. They didn't move or blink. The kit slunk to the ground and moved toward Mocha... and his mother put herself between the birds and her kit.
"Just listen to your uncle's stories. These new ones might be funny!" She said to him lightly, though even he could tell that her mood was off. He obeyed and sat among his siblings, but with the crows staring at him out of the corner of his eye, it was hard to focus. As Mocha continued to speak, all of his siblings were listening intently and paid no attention to the crows.
Then a third crow came, cawed once, and sat in the tree. Mikael tensed as the third crow snapped it's head in his direction. All three birds stared and remained as still as statues. His fur bristled. His mother's did too. And yet Mocha and the other kits were oblivious. A fourth crow came... cawed... alighted on the tree... and snapped it's head in Mikael's direction.
The kit's heart pounded.
"Mom... Mom I want to go inside..." Mikael's claws unsheathed and he began to make his way toward the door. His mother watched the crows but said nothing. A fifth crow flew to the tree... cawed once. And stared at him.
Why are they watching me? And they were
only watching him. Even as a small hawk flew by, the crows didn't flinch. They only stared at him. A sixth crow joined the flock.
Flock... was that the right word for a group of crows? Mikael felt like that was wrong somehow. Something made him not want to know what a group of crows was called.
"Six..." He heard his mother mumble.
A deeper croaking caw cracked the air next... and a much larger crow flew to the top of the wooden fence. Not a crow... a raven. The raven looked at the crows, then to the group of kits... before it's eyes finally rested on Mikael as well. It croaked a raspy
ack as it stared. It must have been some kind of summoning call, because immediately five more ravens alighted on the fence, all croaking their raspy cries.
"A murder of crows..." His mother muttered, then turned her attention to the ravens.
"An unkindness of ravens..." She then looked at Mikael too. The kit was shaking. Something was wrong.
"Mocha... do you mind telling your stories inside?" Their mother asked, snapping their uncle out of his story. He didn't seem offended. He shrugged and turned to the cat door, which wasn't controlled by a specific collar as his was. After a brief moment of struggling to get his large, round body through, the kits followed after him.
Mikael spared one last glance at the crows and ravens...
They exploded in all directions and made a cacophony of noise. It was the only time they took their eyes from the kit. Mikael bolted inside with his mother in hot pursuit. Even once he was inside, the young tom could hear the noise from the windows. He looked at Mocha and his siblings, whom had resumed talking in the living room. When he looked at his mother, she was trembling where she sat and a blank, horrified stare was plastered on her face.
