Now, dear reader, I would like you to try to recall a certain man I mentioned before. A man with cynocephaly. His name was Caleb, and per his condition of cynocephaly he had the head of a wolfhound on the body of a man. He lived alone in the woods, and was gracious enough to give Shlomo, Sir Emeric, and Fulk sanctuary from the storm. Do you recall this man? Good.

Now imagine the sort of life such a man lives. He has the intelligence of a man, but thinks like a dog.

Such a man would spend most of his days sleeping, hunting only when he was hungry enough. Whenever squirrels, racoons, or wild cats stray onto his property, he would rush out of his house, shouting furiously, and chasing them until they had left. Once he was satisfied that his home was safe from the intruders, he would return to his house to gnaw on the thigh bone of a boar he'd killed with his spear the previous day.

When a moment of sadness or loneliness hit him, Caleb would turn his eyes out the window, toward the sun's warm light, and pray that God would make him fully human some day. Briefly, he would contemplate the meaning of life, and whether or not a creature such as he had an immortal soul, but before he could get far in his philosophical musings, he'd hear movement in the bushes outside his home, causing him to rush out and chase after the rabbits.

On one particular day, he actually caught one of the rabbits before it could escape, picked it up in his jaws, and shook it until its neck broke.

Food for me! he thought, spitting the unfortunate rodent out onto his floor, just inside the doorway.

Then his nose caught scent of something unfamiliar. He crouched low and hid behind a tree outside his house.

His ears twitched at the sound of footsteps on the path leading to his home. Something was coming. By the sound of it, human. More than one. On more than one occasion, Caleb had been mocked and tormented by humans who found him. They called him a monster, threw rocks at him, and called him cruel names. But other humans had been kind, giving him cuts of meat or scratching behind his ears.

But because he could never be certain which humans would be kind and which ones would be cruel, he hid and waited, peering through the leaves of the tree.

When they came into view, Caleb saw that these were not mere men at all, but rather monsters. They walked upright like men, and were as large as men, but they had the heads of birds, with long, pointy beaks made of iron. Their scent smelled human, but Caleb caught whiffs of something else there too. Mint, roses, carnations, and vinegar. Truly a strange collection of scents.

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Though Caleb could not see color well, he could tell that three of the bird-men were all black and the one leading was all white. Each of them carried weapons with them, though the weapons were not in hand at the moment.

All four bird-men stopped in front of Caleb's house, with the white one standing the closest.

"Caleb!" the white one called out.

The dog-man's hair stood on end. How did the white bird-man know his name?

"Caleb, it's me, Sir Emeric," called out the white bird-man. "We came to stay with you the other day, remember? I need to speak with you."

Sir Emeric? Now that Caleb thought about it, the name and voice both sounded familiar. Yes, Sir Emeric was the name of the man in white who'd stayed one night in Caleb's house some time ago. He'd brought two bird-men with him. One had turned out to be a normal man in disguise. The other was rude and silent. Caleb recalled that his name was "Dungpie."

"Caleb?" the white bird-man called out again. "Are you home?" The white bird-man reached into his coat and produced a small cut of dried meat. "Are you hungry?"

Caleb cautiously stepped out from behind the tree, his ears perked up.

All three bird-men turned to face him, two of the black ones gave a slight jump, indicating that he'd startled them.

"There you are!" said Sir Emeric. He reached up and removed the bird head, revealing that it was but a mask, and he was human underneath. "Can we talk, my friend?"

Caleb approached slowly and took the meat from Sir Emeric's hand.

"This is insane..." one of the black bird-men muttered.

Caleb chewed on the dried meat and tilted his head to one side. "Dungpie is here?"

One of the bird-men burst into laughter and slapped Dungpie on the back. Dungpie shoved him away with a loud, "Piss off, Shlomo!"

Sir Emeric wore a smirk, but he did not laugh. "Caleb, I have a job for you."

"What's a job?" Caleb asked.

"You don't know what a job is? Well, a job is something... something men do. It's part of what makes us men, and maybe it will make you a man too."

Caleb's ears perked up and his neck straightened. "I'm listening."

"We are what's called plague doctors," said Sir Emeric. "Some people call us 'Crows.' There's a sickness that's trying to hurt a lot of innocent people, and there are bad men and monsters who have tried to spread it on purpose. We need to stop it, otherwise millions will die."

Caleb wasn't sure what millions were, but by the tone in Sir Emeric's voice he knew it was a bad thing if they died.

"It occurred to me, though, that dogs can't catch this sickness," said Sir Emeric, "So, I thought maybe you could help us stop the sickness from spreading. In return, we'll feed you, care for you, and maybe, just maybe, God will reward your faithfulness by making you human. Would you like to do it? You could help a lot of people."

"And people would like me?" Caleb asked.

Caleb wasn't sure why, but his question appeared to have made Sir Emeric sad for a moment. He responded with, "People like us will like you. What say you, Caleb?"

Caleb considered it for a moment, then gave a nod of his head and said, "Yes. I want to go with you to stop the sickness."

"Good boy," said Sir Emeric, scratching the top of his head.

"This is just too weird..." Dungpie muttered.