Every morning I am born into the kingdom of Crow.
For weeks now my window has been shrouded with black capes opening, swooping, the exhausting labor of feeding their young. A little nest, well camouflaged within the top of a pine tree, crouches...
Every morning I am born into the kingdom of Crow.
For weeks now my window has been shrouded with black capes opening, swooping, the exhausting labor of feeding their young. A little nest, well camouflaged within the top of a pine tree, crouches...
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