When the black bird smacked into the window, it startled Ozpin. He looked over his shoulder, but there wasn't a bird still flying outside anymore. So of course, of course, he bolted down the front steps and fell to his knees to pull the bird into his arms.
It wasn't dead, just stunned. He cradled it to his chest, stroking its feathers for a few moments until the bird came too, shaking its head and looking at Oz expectantly. He'd expected the bird to freak out and peck at him hard before flying away. But it only looked at him for a while, letting him stroke it's feathers before it cawed and hopped out of his arms and onto the ground.
"Oh, good." Oz smiled. "I was worried you'd be hurt."
The bird turned to him and cawed again before flying away.
Ozpin smiled as he watched it go.
It was a few weeks before the bird reappeared. Ozpin had left the window open this time—just in case. The bird perched on the window sill, setting a piece of green glass there before cawing.
Ozpin turned to look before smiling. "Well, hello there." He wheeled over in his chair, the crow only stared at him, blinking its dark red eyes before nudging the piece of glass towards him with its beak.
"Oh, for me?" He looked at the piece before reaching delicately. The crow watched him as he turned it over in his fingers. "It's beautiful."
The crow cawed happily as Ozpin reached out to stroke it's feathers like he'd done before.
"Are you hungry?" He raised his brows. "Sorry, I don't really know what crows eat."
The bird tipped its head to the side.
"I'll have something next time, I promise." He smiled, stroking the birds feathers again. "And I promise I'll keep leaving this window open."
The crow cawed again, nuzzling against Oz's fingers for one last scratch before it flew away again. Oz kept the glass shard on his desk so he could look at it while he worked.
It was days rather than weeks the next time. The crow was perched on the sill when Ozpin came upstairs, a pearly-looking bead at its feet.
"Oh, it's beautiful." Ozpin smiled, turning the bead in his fingers before setting it next to the glass shard.
"I read that crows like fresh fruit." He picked an apple slice from his plate, breaking it into a smaller piece before holding it out. "Is this okay?"
The bird tipped its head to the side before taking the piece from Ozpins hand, careful not to scratch him with his beak.
"Crickets would probably be better." Oz held out another piece and the bird took it. "Would you like me to look into that for you?"
The crow cawed and Ozpin reached to stroke his head.
"I like having a visitor." He smiled. "It's good to see you again."
The bird continued visiting Ozpin for the next several years. Ozpin collected the gifts it brought him in a shoebox next to his desk. Eventually, the crow stopped coming. Ozpin didn't like to think about it. He didn't want to wonder if the crow had died. Instead, he liked to imagine that it had moved somewhere else; migrated with a flock (even though he'd never seen the crow with any others and not all crows migrated).
It had been a solid year since the crow's last appearance when Ozpin got an unexpected visitor. He didn't get many visitors, especially after the crow stopped coming.
When he opened the door, a man stood there, hands in his pockets. He had dark grey hair and red eyes.
"Um, hi." He offered. "My car broke down. Do you have a phone I could use?"
Ozpin nodded. "In my office."
"Thank you." The guys smiled. "My name's Qrow."
Despite the fact that he could've been a serial killer, Ozpin led him upstairs rather than make him wait in the doorway.
"It's just here."
Qrow looked at the jaw of dried crickets and raised an eyebrow. "That's an unusual snack choice."
Ozpin's face flushed—he wasn't sure why—as he held his phone out. "They're for a friend of mine. Here's my phone."
"Thank you." Qrow smiled and took the phone, dialing and staying within earshot while he made the call.
After he hung up, he sighed and handed the phone back. "She said it might be a while."
"That's fine." Oz smiled. "I don't mind the company."
"What's your name? You didn't say before."
"Ozpin." He sat down at his desk. "Though most people just call me Oz."
"So, tell me about this friend of yours who eats crickets."
Ozpin shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Qrow looked at the open shoe box at Oz's desk before reaching in, plucking out a green glass shard. "Try me."