Sekith did not like Canis - no! No not at all! The resident creature of Cetus had turned into a wandering creature in pursuit of new tastes and smells and something to entertain its bored corvid brain. Why it had found itself in Canis was a mystery to even itself, but it had quickly abandoned the dry cave of bones. Too small! Too dry and musty! Too much dust and dirt and not enough water to splish splash around in and no trees to climb and no roots to hide under. And also nobody to throw rocks at.

It gurgled to itself as it crawled pathetically through the cold, uncomfortable cave, wanting to get back to its mud and mist as soon as possible, maybe find a warm snack along the way. But a sudden crack split the air and Sekith raised its head, alert, feather-crown bristling. It swung its head around, its jaw opening as its throat contracted, a similar but not-quite-there crack echoed from its gullet. Something red in the not-red cave caught its eye.

A love for shiny things. A potential snack. Maybe just pure curiosity. Whatever the reasoning was, the creature changed its direction, now headed for the rock-thing. At its side, it paused, as if thinking. At first, it opened its mouth and gnawed helplessly at the smooth surface of a stone that was much too large to eat. Then, after another brief pause, a squeak, not too different from the one that had just sounded from within, came from its throat.

It began to scrabble at the edge of the rock near where a crack had appeared, as if trying to help. But then it made a loud croaking noise and suddenly pulled back with a hiss - it had cut the underside of a claw against the sharp stone. It observed the wound, blood slowly oozing into the black slime that coated its feathers. It nosed at it, dropping more oil on top as if to soothe the cut. It didn’t exactly have a tongue to lick at it, after all.