I really need to get a tattoo of a raven.
Once, while visiting the Tower of London I had my path blocked by one of the ravens who reside there. It wasn’t going to give up an inch of ground and I – knowing that a raven can, and will, bite off your finger – wasn’t going to force the issue.
“I’m not doing anything”, I protested.
“I’m talking to Rodney.”
“Yes. You are, indeed, talking to Rodney. I don’t know how you know my name but…”
“Rodney is that raven’s name.”
Here’s the mighty Kevorkian Death Cycle with “The Ravens Fly”.