Cindy, the Frost-Crow
Athenaeum entry. Correspondent of record: Vel Asharen. Confirmation: direct observation; multiple visits; the subject has looked at me twice.
Form
An entirely ordinary-looking crow. Glossy black feathers, sharp dark eyes, a slightly oversized beak. Nothing about her appearance suggests she is anything other than a normal corvid — until she lands.
The moment her talons make contact, a creeping rime of pale blue-white frost spreads outward, and within seconds the surface is locked in ice that does not thaw. The Athenaeum's records contain confirmed perches dating back several centuries, all of them still frozen: a single rail of a long-abandoned bridge, the gable of an inn now buried under its own frost, a particular stone in a forgotten graveyard. The folk practice of identifying Meni's resting places by tracking these patches across the continent is corroborated by Athenaeum survey work; it is a reliable method. The frost is harmless to her. It is permanent.
Powers
Frost. Passive, constant, unstoppable. She does not direct it. She produces it where she settles.
Observation. She sees more than a normal bird should. Mortals who lock eyes with her often feel suddenly, briefly, known. She never acts on what she sees. As best the correspondent has been able to determine, she reports nothing to Meni either. She watches because she is curious.
Personality
A pet. Just a pet. This correspondent has confirmed this repeatedly and considers the confirmation important: there is no indication that Cindy is more than what she appears to be, despite the frost and despite her presence at the side of Death.
Dignified and quiet in her god's presence — perched on Meni's shoulder during collections, witnessing each soul cross over with patient corvid stillness. The moment Meni reaches up to scratch under her chin, she melts. She leans into the touch. She fluffs up. She makes small chittering noises of contentment. She will headbutt his fingers if the scratches stop too soon. She adores having the back of her head rubbed and will tilt forward to expose it, eyes half-closed in absolute bliss.
The correspondent has observed this behavior twice and finds it consistent across visits.
Origin
Unknown to all but Hjarn, who refuses to tell. The standing account — corroborated by Meni's own clergy — is that she simply was, one day, perched on the back of Meni's throne, looking pleased with herself. Meni did not question it. The two have been inseparable since.
This correspondent has formally inquired about Cindy's origin on three occasions over the course of normal Athenaeum correspondence with Hjarn. Each inquiry has been politely declined. The Athenaeum no longer considers further inquiry appropriate.
Relationships
Meni — Her god. Inseparable. He scratches under her chin during the long quiet stretches between collections. Whatever else is true about Meni, this is also true about him.
Aerith Soln — Indulges her with treats and calls her "little frost-bringer" in an affectionate baby-voice that, by Meni's clergy's account, makes Meni visibly long-suffering. Cindy is fond of her.
Korin Soln — Has tried bribery, baby-talk, and outright begging to win Cindy's affection. Cindy has never once let her touch her. The correspondent has it on cross-corroborated authority that Meni considers this the single funniest ongoing event in the pantheon and refuses to intervene.