Now was her moment! He wasn't paying attention to her, meaning she could sneak up on him. She just had to make sure he couldn't sing at her. The hot-dog began to change shape and mass, briefly looking like a little kid's play-doh project gone horribly wrong.

Within seconds, she was fully human and prepared to strike before--"Sonofa ****!" was the pained cry that interrupted her thought process. Looking down, Paige had forgotten about the fork. She didn't feel it in shift, but now that she was human and it was an inch deep into her side...she remembered.

"Mother--..." Biting her lip, she pulled the fork out and threw it to the ground with a clang. Putting her left hand on her injured right side, blood began to seep through her light blue shirt. A tear rolled down her cheek. There was no way she could fight now. And what's worse, her cover was blown.

Mmmmmmmmmm bloodlust. It was absolutely delightful, especially compounded through as many minds as composed Crow. He wasn't the top of the food chain, though. The Predator certainly was, but scavengers were assistants, not lords. His lord of the moment, though, called him to give battle.

If ravens could, crows could. He swirled above Sylar's head, cawing his agreement from dozens of enthusiastic beaks before he began to pour down upon the defenceless humans. Blood coated his tongues and tantalized his throats, danced before his eyes and flecked his feathers. His talons left streaks and drops of blood as he scored and scratched and clawed any bared flesh any of his many eyes could spot, curving and darting to seize upon near-hidden skin with an unnatural perception. With so many eyes in the sky, nothing went unobserved.

Such as the stranger emerging confidently from the shattered ruins of a building. Too confidently to be one of the prey-things at the Predator's mercy. He passed by the potential flockmate's head with two synchronized birds, cawing the query before rejoining the swirling, savaging murder. Come play~

Streak watched the chaos for a minute. Something was going on here, but no one was telling him what he wanted to know. He'd have to find it out himself. The people seemed to pour in from all directions towards any mutant they saw. Streak dodged a punch and walked into a kick to the back of his left leg. He went down but only for a second. On his knees he spun around, swept the foot out from under his kicker and stood up to face his other attacker.

He was more prepared than they were anticipating and he came up swinging. A punch connected with a humans face. He staggered back and took a moment to think about what he was doing, while another person charged. Streak backed up a little and stopped a kick with his shin, only to counter with one of his own. Streak had spent many years training and his kicks were much more devastating than some random persons off the street high on adrenaline.

The silvermancer looked above him and saw that the flock of birds swarming around seemed to be doing quite a bit of damage to the humans. As much as he wanted to stop the humans and not hurt them he knew that the crows/ravens, whichever they were he couldn't tell at the moment. He just knew they were big birds and were pissing the people off more than anything with all their scratching. Streak managed to get away from a few attackers for the moment. As he did he formed a broad and long silver shield. He also formed a staff. Nothing that would kill anyone or anything, but something to hopefully scare the birds off. He swung his staff. There seemed to be so many he didn't think it would be to hard to hit at least one of them.