An omen of doom and a symbol of hope; but which is which? Why do you think it even matters?
 
When she woke up, the pull was gone; a pull she hadn’t even noticed was there, like getting stretched apart for so long that it no longer hurts, and suddenly being set free. The birds were there, watching intently; the raven staring at her and the dove scanning the horizon in silence. The two of them were much more intimidating than the brief glimpse she’d gotten of them before, with the vicious blades seeming to grow out of their wings and the stonelike armor that looked as much a part of their body as their very feathers.
 
She got up, and the birds drew closer. “I guess I should get back… I have a heck of a story to tell Twilight. I assume you’re both coming too?”
 
The Raven’s only response was a single caw, and both birds hopped onto the unicorn’s back.
 
“I… have a lot to think about, I think.”
 
Ten Legendary Weapons 5/10: The White Raven and The Black Dove