"Gran-pa, I've been thinking..." the boy says, just before his grandfather tucks him in for the night and blowing out the candle. "Yes? My boy." grandfather says. "How come you have so many Raven's and Weasel's carved on your chair, and thoughout our home?" At this, the grandfather smiles a kindly smile. "Well, young one, they have both been known to eat snakes... a rather interesting irony in my case, but they also tend to serve rather well as loyal and inconspicous informants." The boy thinks about this for a moment, then says, "How do you speak to them? With words? Do they understand us?" Grandfather thinks about this for a second, then replies, "No, I don't think they understand speech, though Ravens may understand some. They simply "think" to you, and you to them, through the stone. I will happily show you how to use it tomorrow, along with showing you a few things about defending yourself..." grandfather says cryptically. Accepting this with an uncharacteristicly quiet nod, the boy fell asleep.
All that next day, Grandfather taught the boy how to use the stone, and much to the boy's surprise, a Raven did indeed answer his call. A rather large one, no less, that stayed around to watch the boy for the rest of the day, as if wondering how the child could suddenly understand it. The boy also showed fast progress at the simple use of a dagger, which pleased his grandfather to no end. That night, the boy, seeming to have grown much older in a single day, calmly crawled into his covers, and waited patiently for his grandfather to settle in for the nightly story.
"What about weasels, gran-pa?" the boy asked. Now wondering if grandfather was hiding some other magical stone, and wanting to see what a weasel had to say about the world. (For the Raven had told him much! Including the notion that the man on the horse had been riding around near their farm with greater frequency. Of course, he didn't say it that way, more like: "Horse human with feathered head has been looking for food near your territory for some time." But the boy got the basic gist of it. Not feeling like a Wizard would have any interest in him or his grandfather, the boy simply thought the bird had read his excited thoughts about going to a fair in town, and was fibbing to him, as the wizard had warned him a Raven might do. "Weasels?" grandfather said, "Actually, I did have a weasel totem stone, but it was lost when your mother and father..." at that, grandfather trails off. "Oh, that's ok." the boy says. "I like Ravens more, anyway!" the boy says, smiling. "They are a bit better at flying..." grandfather says, and both of them share a good laugh.