And only Drake would have the sucky luck to be saddled with fighting next to him during said battle. “So how is Operation Breakfast going?” Ash asked as he dodged a bullet. They were currently at the shore of the Flint River, doing their best not to be driven into the water by the birds, all the while trying not to attract too much attention from the humans. No problem. Easy peasy. Cue sarcasm. Drake dove to the ground just as a Raven swooped down, talons extended, its intent to take off his head. “Fine, as he’s gone out with me the past three mornings.” Ash smiled even as he shot a Raven dead. “That’s great news. It must mean he likes you.” Drake took a hit to the gut and fell backward. “Has he told you as much?” he gasped. “Well, he told us he doesn’t hate you anymore, so that’s a start.” Ash hissed in pain when a Raven sliced his arm with its talons. The bird that had kicked Drake jumped on top of him and began to tear at his chest with his claws. Drake gritted his teeth against the pain, lifted his gun, shoved it in the fucker’s mouth, then fired.
