Prompt: singing grape, computer keyboard, underneath a bush, brisk weather

An animal; Small, black, and feathered. It hopped up and down in the garden behind the small warehouse, chirping with joy at its recent catch: it was a worm, small, pink, and squirming. Now limp in the bird's beak. The fowl chirped at its find, consuming the insect, and disappearing behind one of the many shrubs in the yard. A cool breeze caught the sunshine's ray, whilst twirling a golden leaf in its clutch, and blew its unfriendly breath at the tainted window in which the girl sat, watching. She had been digging through some old boxes their family had recently found in storage in their attic. Out came a dusty keyboard, the timeworn white boxy kind, missing its outdated monitor. She sat typing, staring out the dense thick window, and typed the story of the raven. She was a young schoolgirl, with no more knowledge than a sparrow, and simply formed the words with the letters she found on the keyboard's face, and played with the notion of the raven's story. The girl fancied the bird famished; ergo she threw a grape out into the stimulating offhand wind, and advanced to securing the window to its original position on the sill.

But outside, the fowl had found the small, purple speck, curious about the tiny insect, wondering why it wasn't straining to free its self from the raven's grasp. When the raven bit down, he believed the minute squeak the delicate skin made as a plea of appreciation, for saving it from this punishing life.