The little girl who appeared to be Mediva was bouncing around Anweina in high spirits, constantly babbling about what she had seen in the outside world in her messy, disorganized way. Occasionally, she answered Anweina's questions about what had happened after she ate the Goddess's leaf. By now, I could be certain: this little girl really was Mediva—the giant Crow God that was said to have grown to a hundred-meter wingspan.
It was quite surprising that she could transform into this form, but it seemed to be a good thing. For one, it showed that she had made tremendous progress in controlling her own power. For another, being smaller meant causing less of a commotion. I mean, if a Giant Bird with a hundred-meter wingspan had just dropped from the sky onto my roof, would anyone be getting any sleep tonight?
Still, communicating with this talking version of Mediva seemed rather difficult. She could surf the internet, teach herself Dalaran's advanced textbooks, and spit ball lightning while flying at dozens of times the speed of sound, but none of that changed the fact that she had only been hatched for half a month and had the personality of a four-and-a-half-year-old. She spoke in a confused jumble and had her own way of understanding what she experienced—which was another way of saying none of us understood it. Even Anweina looked a little overwhelmed when talking to her. She said it had been much easier to talk to Mediva before, when she had still been a bird. Her mind had not been nearly so broad back then...
More often than not, little-girl Mediva would bounce around and rattle off a whole pile of things, while Anweina and I huddled together, worked out formulas for ages, and barely managed to piece together enough