"Your 'grace', huh?" Iman tilts her head, considering him. "Is that some kinda angel thing?"

She supposes she can warm up to the crow thing. Crows are smart, loud, and they don't give any shits; she can see it. Aqil tilts his head up at her, blinking at her with one bright eye, seeming - what, pleased with her assessment? She gives him another experimental stroke. He's growing on her.