"I ain't worried about regard. Regard ain't gonner knock me in the back of the neck." Glenn's priorities baffled him.
Teetering dangerously on the desk's ledge, the raven regarded dubiously the little collection of boxes and Xs Glenn presented him. The act of watching him draw, ink unspooling beneath the quill's point, was more interesting than what the lines represented, particularly considering that 'representing' didn't mean much to him anyway. If his mistress struggled with metaphor, the raven lacked an ability to comprehend symbols.
He peered into the rectangle Glenn had drawn, then looked back up at the man. Then back to the rectangle. Then to Glenn. "Uh. We're not in there. We're in here." He spoke very slowly, very carefully, with more than a little concern that this, then, was what the lady had warned him to look out for. "You want me to go out there and look for some kids. Which will be out there. But they won't actually be standing on Xs. Got it. Leave it to me."