Singing Crow

Taiga. Land of firtrees, fresh breezes and rich prey, yet stern for survival. Only one of this season's litters was of a lone puppy. The silver-furred almost weaned canine with blue hues came out in the light of the world in an unfortunate time, a rarely happening event of famine. So merciless, bringing death to all but the strong. It feels like nature was testing out if you're worthy of continuing life. The pup's ancestors have repeatedly experienced the severe hunger, dying off slowly and painfully. A rumour spoke some even ended themselves in wishes of soaring free in the endless skies of afterlife and knowing no dread, yet did that happen? No, those were spoken to eternally walk in vast and empty lands of semi-reality until they're forgotten by the living, and so by that time they fade away forever, never to return.

The single female pup was named Singing Crow for the respect of the dark avians which, in her pack, were believed to carry death on their ragged wings, and a caw devours the nearest one's soul, bringing inevitable doom. Thus those creatures never sang a soothing melody. That brief myth was diligently instilled onto the young of the pack since their birth, but did Singing Crow believe? She was a meek one thinking to herself but valuing the well-being of others as her own. The glaucous always felt sympathy for the feathered ones, and couldn't be blamed. Corvids had a life too, like her, it's not their fault the canines of her allegiance thought such things of them. Singing Crow constantly tried to reassure other pups in the innocence of birds, but nothing helped.

A starry night the corvid's truthful sounds lured the young'un out of the place of her safety. Warm, lively rivers of the taiga whispered the secrets of life to the cloudless sky. We would never understand why, as well as many things. We don't know what our life is worth, and perhaps, we never will. Singing Crow's unexperienced paws stumbled on one another, carrying her fragile body forward, into the unknown lands which held many secrets to discover. Her purely crystal blue eyes opened wide of what's ahead to witness. Her gaze resembled the translucent waters, the creeping frost that comes with winter, her inner soul and innocence of a pup.

A wave of energy and excitement ran through Singing Crow's small body. It was her first time emerging onto the beautiful lands of her pack's territory, which looked even more mesmerizing in nighttime. In silence, the nature was heard better. The pup could hear the gently moonkissed leaves's calm rustle, the illuminated river's flow. It reflected her own curiosity, as Singing Crow looked down at herself in confusion. A clumsy light paw lifted, touching the water's surface, spreading a ripple. Singing Crow smiled sweetly at herself, barely grown fangs revealed. A moment of friendly silence was interrupted by an echoing caw. It was what she came for! A gentle wag of her tail was a sign of "bye" to her own reflection and a promise to come back, as the pup ran off onto the direction of the sound, full of wisdom.

Who was she looking at? Dark, iridescent feathers, a rough beak and bloodthirsty talons wasn't what she imagined a "crow" as. Generations and generations of wisdom were passed down in a single caw, forcing Singing Crow to twitch and lure out a sparkle of curiosity within her eyes. The corvid answered with mutual sweetness. It seemed like the bird also came out of his nest not long ago.

After a few moments of humbly inspecting eachother, one decided to approach. The intelligence of the crow was reflected in his glassy eyes, as Singing Crow hopped closer to the rock the majestic bird sat on. They both began trusting eachother from the first second. A beak touched a nose, and so a whole new story has begun.