The Three Ravens

Christine Richardson
6 min readOct 9, 2019

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In Norse mythology, Odin, Allfather of the gods, is aided by the helping spirits of two ravens, Huginn and Muninn. These ravens fly, every morning, around the world but are always back in time for breakfast. They spend the rest of each day perched on Odin’s shoulders, whispering news of all they have seen and heard. Huginn collects the thoughts and Muninn holds the memories. On this day, they stop to have a quick snack during their morning travels and have a very strange encounter with a very odd fellow who has a very different perspective on the world.

“There, see it? Right there in the middle of the road,” yelled Huginn. Muninn saw it, jumped out of the spruce and dropped right onto the flat squirrel. Most of the time Huginn just rambled but his eyes were sharp. Muninn was however, quicker. Huginn flew down and settled beside him with a bounce and a twirl, like he was too cool for school.

“Why do you have to do that every time?” Muninn grumped.

“Practicing my rave moves, dude.” Huginn said as he preened his shining black wing tip with his beak. “Gotta stay sharp and smooth for the ladies.” He grinned at Muninn. “Hey, how about some of that smashed rodent or are you in a gluttonous mood?” Muninn wrapped his talon around the torso of the dead squirrel, ripped off a leg with his beak and lobbed it toward Huginn. Just as Huginn stretched out his beak to catch the bloody bit, a huge black body flashed in front of him and snatched the leg out of the air.

“What the…?” Huginn sputtered, blood spattering his newly preened feathers. A big ragged black bird was gripping the leg in his claws and settling down into the grass at the side of the road, with no style at all, Huginn noted with disgust. In fact, the ancient raven looked like he could barely stand upright! Muninn tossed the rest of the squirrel carcass to Huginn and marched over to the thief.

“What the hell was that?” he barked. ‘You are a sorry-ass excuse for a crow. Even condors have more manners,” he screeched.

“I’m no stinkin’ crow, man. I’m a raven,” the grim bird croaked.

“Not a crow? You sure act like one…no manners, none at all! And look at you, looking like you’ve been chewed up by three cats and spit out into one big hair ball. Sorry excuse for a raven if you ask me; so I say, you’re a crow. Give me back that squirrel leg!” Muninn demanded.

The huge raven stared straight at Muninn with his fiery blood shot eyes, pinfeathers sticking out every which way and shoved the leg into his mouth, swallowing it with one gulp. Muninn’s beak dropped open in amazement.

Huginn bust out laughing and started dancing around in the middle of the road, singing “he got you, he fooled you, the dumb raven schooled you!” Muninn whirled on Huginn.

“Shut up Huginn! Do you have to share every stupid thought that pops into your pea brain?” But Huginn was laughing too hard to care about the insult. He lifted up the three-legged squirrel by the ear and made it dance like he was putting on a puppet show in Odin’s court.

Muninn deflated. “I’m surrounded by idiots,” he thought to himself. He slowly walked over to the puppet master, grabbed the tail of the squirrel with his beak, ripped it off and stuffed it into Huginn’s mouth. Huginn’s eyes were still laughing at him as Muninn turned back to the newcomer.

“What’s your name?” he demanded.

“Never” croaked the bird.

“Oh, you will tell me!” Muninn was royally pissed off now and getting ready for a fight.

“More” the raven added.

“No damned way you’re getting more,” steamed Muninn. “Get your own squashed squirrel!” The grim raven rolled his bloodshot eyes at the laughing Huginn, who shrugged at him, and then looked carefully back at Muninn.

“Nevermore” he said slowly. Muninn’s sharp yellow eyes suddenly flashed with recognition. Huginn also finally recognized him. He hopped to the side of the road, spit the squirrel tail into Muninn’s face and turned to the newcomer.

“I know you, you’re the Poe crow!” he shouted excitedly and did a happy jig. The big raven stared at Huginn.

“First off, dude, don’t call me Poe crow, “he said.

“Well then, what’s your name?” asked Muninn, a little embarrassed that he hadn’t recognized the famous bird because he considered his memory to be his best feature.

“Derrick” the raven replied. There was a strained silence. Huginn and Muninn looked at each other. Muninn flashed Huginn a look that said ‘Do Not Laugh.’ They looked back at the Poe crow.

“Derrick? Really?” Muninn asked.

“Yep”

“Huh, ok well then I guess we will call you Derrick” he said.

“Like hell we will!” shouted Huginn with laughter, and stepped away from Derrick in case the big guy decided to deck him. “Derrick sounds like a dude who sits on a train trestle all day waiting for fish to swim by so he can shoot them with his bb gun” Huginn said.

“Ooh, fish” drooled Derrick.

Huginn shuffled back over to Derrick and clapped a wing over one of his shoulders. “Dude, man you look like shit. Last time we crossed paths you were perched on a statue, croaking at some poor sap who had lost his lover and couldn’t get his shit together. You were the only beautiful thing in the room. What happened to you man?” Huginn asked. “You were a legend and now you’re a mess.”

“Fames a bitch,” Derrick replied. “Hey, you gonna eat that?” he tipped his head at the dismembered squirrel under Huginn’s claw.

“Odin’s balls” Muninn muttered as Huginn tossed the carcass to Derrick who snatched it up and quickly ate all edible parts, eyeballs first. “We’re famous and we do ok,” said Muninn haughtily.

Derrick spindly neck snapped his pin feathered head around and he glared at Muninn. “You hang with a completely different crowd,” he snapped. “You two are spoiled. Working with Odin is a cakewalk. What do you do? You fly around the world every day just gathering information. You don’t have to deliver messages or watch horrible things happen for very long. You just flit around like mourning doves and then fly back to your cushy perch, make a report, have a good breakfast and BOOM, you’re done for the day.” Derrick spat on the ground. “What’s the worst thing that could happen to you?” he asked. “I’ll tell you what; you could lose each other. Huginn, you would end up flying around aimlessly because, without Muninn, you wouldn’t remember how to get home. And you Muninn, you’re so haughty but, without Huginn you would have to go back to Odin with nothing to tell. Oh, don’t worry,” Derrick said with a condescending sniff, “he would still feed you…if he could remember how,” he smirked.

Huginn and Muninn looked at each other. They had never thought about what would happen if they were not together. “Well if life is so much harder for you, who exactly do you work for?” Muninn sputtered.

“I don’t serve anyone,” Derrick replied. “I’m my own raven. But I do like to hang out with Hades,” he added for affect.

“Ack,” Muninn gasped. “He has that damned three-headed dog in his doorway, that’s why we never go down there,” he quickly explained.

Derrick smirked, “if you throw him a smashed squirrel or three, you’ll get by him. Although, you may end up looking like me,” he chortled. Muninn didn’t look convinced and Huginn wasn’t listening anymore. He was looking for a shiny bright pebble to take back to his new girlfriend.

“Hades is actually a cool dude” said Derrick. “He gets a bad rap. Hell, he isn’t deadly, just a serious guy doing a tough job” he explained. “Except,” he added thoughtfully “that he overcooks everything.” Muninn and Derrick both bust out laughing at this.

“Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem,” Muninn snickered and then realized it was past time to move on. “Ok guys, enough chit chat. Let’s move Huginn! We’ve got places to go,” directed Muninn.

Huginn hopped to attention with a pretty pink pebble in his beak, “Captain my captain, yes SIR!” and he waved his big wing at Muninn in a deep ceremonious bow.

Muninn ignored this display of ridiculous behavior and turned back to Derrick. “Well Poe crow, I hope you enjoyed the smashed squirrel. Odin will be very interested to hear about you and your doings. Maybe we will see you again and maybe not.” Then Muninn spread his wings and nodded to Huginn. “Let’s do this,” he called.

They winged into the air and toward the rising sun. Just as they reached the tree tops and circled toward the light, they could see Derrick standing at the side of the road, with what was left of the gruesome squirrel, held up in a bloody salute.

“Nevermore dudes,” he croaked “Nevermore.”

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Christine Richardson

I am an outdoor adventurer, scientist, musher, cancer survivor, spiritual intuitive, shaman and writer…but most of all I am a dog lover