The gods are known to have an array of messengers. They're beasts deemed subservient and therefore prime to do the bidding of the gods that have no time (or just no will) to attend to the mediocrity of mortality. Öde can't help but wonder though if those celestial slaves are still above him. Many had since shuffled off their mortal coil but clung still to an existence graciously provided by the gods. Most even had a glorious display of gifts from the gods, marking them as their familiars in all the elements they commonly dressed in. There's something to be said too of an owner's affinity for his pets...

Öde ponders too the mimicry of their mortal companions. They are but mere shadows of the godly beasts, lacking the same invulnerability, the array of prowess (just a splinter of it), and they certainly aren't half as intelligent, evidenced by their inability to do anything but speak in one horse's mind.
Still, Öde feels lesser for having nothing. He thinks of this as he lays and stares at his wolf pelt, wishing he had the magic of his mother to make it dance for him, if even just to pretend for a short while it was his ally.

He sighs, a bitter, lonely sound, as the raven caws for his attention.

A red ear twists and his head follows, bloody gaze curious as it held the beady stare of the bird. Was this his inevitable gift, come at last? No, he thinks with a scowl, knowing the bond is born of an egg, this was just fate mocking him once more.

Though it does make him wonder if the gods hatch their familiars as well. There's something terribly amusing in imagining the God of Time doting over a lightning-streaked infant.

He chuckles as he rises with the thought, shaking himself and gathering his things. He flips the dead wolf skin over his back, and with a few stretching maneuvers buckles his groin hammock into place. By now he's registered the raven as being Weaver's pet, and he sets off to follow it, doing his best not to be intrigued by this summons.

He's a bit surprised at the little gathering he comes across, and while he glances at each in turn, Rikyn holds his interest the longest. The king's question that Öde overhears as he settles in with the group gives him no answers though, so instead he diverts his attention to Weaver with a raised 'brow. "I didn't think birds played fetch."