"This was an expected outcome," said the blue-eyed raven, as the first cold breath of night rolled down over the hills. "Historically, Pedro II was someone who flinched at the finish line. This was the fundamental problem with Monarchy as a system of government, it was always poor at selecting for people with the proper grindset to succeed."

The cold breath of wind again, stronger now, blowing away any light or life the world had moments ago. The raven is speaking faster, glittering blue lights appearing on the hills behind it, resuming its pattern of ever-shifting smarter-than-thou rhetoric.

"Furthermore, the ceremony you have exhibited here today has certain fundamental logical flaws and contradictions. I will begin by enumerating them -"

and in a whisper it was gone.

Blink. Look around. Where had - a smear of feathers, a drip of machine oil, and a heavyset and well groomed orange cat glaring at you like 'mind your own fucking business' with a dead robot bird in its mouth. It raises its tail and walks away with enough speed to say that it fully expects Katherine to try and steal its catch, but enough swagger to communicate that it does not think highly of her chances to succeed.