“I have here with me a fully legal and binding written agreement that states that I am the sole owner of the sycamore, and that anyone found trespassing will be liable to pay a hefty fine.”

Kevin, the raven was visibly agitated and made his point in no uncertain terms in front of the unkindness. The other members nodded in agreement.

“Look at how my fine feathers are turning grey from worry. It’s an intentional breach of my rights and privacy; it’s a conspiracy against a conspiracy.”

The above words were met with wild and thunderous flapping of the wings. One member raised his beak and asked if there was a way to get back at the perpetrators.

“Oh yes, there is, there is,” cried Kevin with a glint in his eye. “We only have to turn to our loud cousins for inspiration. Their caws are highly annoying for the frail ears of those grotesque mammals; we simply must replicate it. Our lower croaking sounds cannot do.”

A member objected to the notion by stating that it was not within their means.

“Bah!” Kevin cawed, dismissively. “One can achieve anything if only one wills it. We have a living example right next doors. Who would have thought that pigeons could direct their droppings precisely onto their targets? That is now possible thanks to a little practice and determination.”