Josef lay completely still. The heat from the multitude of crows crowding his body brought sweat to his neck, his hands. He could barely feel the night's breeze.

"We felt the rumbling of a new energy springing to life," came the crows' voice. "We wondered — would he make it? Would he come to us?"

Josef couldn't locate where exactly the voice came from. It seemed to be echoing from within his own mind. It was neither completely male nor female, neither old nor young; it was ghostly and yet it had the quick pulse of life, stillness and energy swirling together.

Josef didn't move, he didn't speak. He felt a claw squeeze his cheek bone as if testing his skin, determining if it was fit for this reality.

"And you have come, and you have offered yourself to us as your first step. We wonder, though, goo-drinker, if you're ready to receive what we have to offer."

Josef wanted to respond in the affirmative but he was going to play this by the book. No movement. Still, he wondered what their offer entailed.

"We hear your thoughts, goo-drinker." More crow claws gripped Josef's skin. "You are similar to many we've seen before, and yet, you are an oddity."

An oddity? Josef winced as the crows' claws nicked just past his skin. Of course he was an oddity. He was a goo-drinker, birthed only, it seemed, to suffer an ad-hoc and spontaneous death.

The crows cawed in unison. "Those who watch you have plans for you. Just as they had plans for the others who passed briefly into our meadow. And just like them, The Ba'ha Company has lain us low."

The voice continued: "Slowly, they have withered us. We saw the danger and still we succumbed. They plied the townsfolk around us with gold chunks from their pilfering and their colonies; they showed our people lustre and gleam and stole their minds until their hearts followed in shame. And now you offer yourself to them, for a chance to live?"

Josef felt the crows turning on him. They were rebuking him. Along with their claws, nips from their beaks began to grab at his cloth sack and snap at his skin. The fenham in his pouch was so close. It would help him relax. But he couldn't move.

"Nothing? Goo-drinker, we are patient. We will wait."

The crows beaks began to peck at him in earnest. No longer was it a peck here and there, but now it felt as if a vicious hail storm tore across his body.

He felt his mind running away from him. Everything started speed up, but then he remembered Claudius's advice to return to his imagined goo-sac if necessary.

And so he did. He pictured its slowness, his drifting hands, the gentleness of his deep-dreaming and unawakened life. It was a dormant memory, one he'd unknowingly internalized for septujinnys, but now he was momentarily back in it, sustaining himself.

He could still feel the crows' beaks nipping into him, but the pain felt more distant, more remote. The crows had just rebuked him for offering himself to The Ba'ha Company while knowing at least some of the horrors they undertook. But what was he to do?

He felt insulted. He wanted to rebuke them in turn for not understanding his dilemma, that he had no choice — and yet surely they knew this already. But, they had asked nevertheless…

What was the truth they were asking of him? Josef felt his mind angle towards the answer, but it remained half-shrouded and lurking just out of consciousness. He knew he could stumble towards it if he willed himself to do so, but was it worth it?

"Yes," said the crows' voice. "You see it."

He hesitated; he could feel their beaks scouring his body; he didn't want to know, but then he gave in. He ripped away the mental shroud. He uncovered the hidden truth lurking within his own mind.

And the truth, as it often is, was so simple:

He did have a choice. He could've ran as soon as the machos placed him down on the meadow grass. He could run right now.

The thought itself brought fear streaming throughout his entire body. He watched his imagined goo-sac sanctuary crumble. He now felt everything, every beak pecking at his skin, every claw shredding his arms and legs. He wanted to run. He wanted to scream.

"Yes, goo-drinker, yes. You see it. You see it clearly, your weakness. You would rather live and chain yourself to vileness than face the truth of your actions. Worst of all, you would lie to yourself about it and make your weakness invisible, if only to yourself."

Josef's body was searing with pain but the crows' voice had gripped something deeper, something more fundamental within him and wrenched at it. What did they want from him? Did they want him to move? Did they want him to give in and die? Was this all part of the test?

These questions and more tumbled through Josef's brain as he remained at the precipice of a decision — a flicker of intention and his muscles would tense, and he would move, and then he would run, and then? He saw it all clearly unfolding in his imagination, except for the ending.

He was completely confused, and while drowning in his confusion, he gave up. He let himself feel the anguish of indecision. He let himself sink into his own ignorance.

As if a secret password had been spoken, the crows instantly retracted their beaks and relaxed their talons. The pain vanished. They pressed their soft feathers against Josef's rag sack and skin.

He felt his heart thudding rapidly in his chest. He couldn't believe he was still alive.

The voice returned: "You now see what anguish the truth carries. You now see a bit more of yourself. This small lesson is all we can offer you, goo-drinker." Then the voice paused, only for a second, before finishing with, "We dare not ratify you."

Josef's throat caught. What? He couldn't believe it. They wouldn't ratify him?

"You are similar to the rest. For you deceive yourself. But you are also an oddity. The goo drifting throughout your system is unlike any we have seen before. It has wormed its way even deeper into your being."

Josef was stunned. He'd come here to get ratified. Claudius had told him the crows ratified everyone, but now they were rejecting him all because the goo he'd drank was somehow different?

He didn't want to die. He wanted the crows to ratify him. Suddenly he realized the truth: he would die in this meadow.

"We are an old feld, goo-drinker, and as you can see we are weak and tired. We now only bring safety and guidance to a small number of our faithful feldlings. If we attempted to ratify you, it could very well destroy our entire presence within The Lush Heap."

Josef listened but wave after wave of fear quaked through him, leaving him breathless. He waited for the crows to speak again, still not daring to move. The crows continued to push themselves against his body like a warm quilt in winter.

Then the voice came again: "But now we say this, goo-drinker. Hear us." The voice quavered as if it were suddenly at the mercy of a cosmic sadness. "If you will us to do so, we will risk your ratification. Will will attempt it. However, you now know the consequences of such an attempt. Our feld could collapse. We could be forced to abandon our feldlings and the meadow we've guarded and stewarded for untold septujinnys."

Josef couldn't believe what he was hearing. The crows had just offered to potentially sacrifice their feld in order to ratify him, if he so desired it. Could he ask that of them?

"It is your choice: if you move, you will be unharmed but the ratification will end; if you stay still, we will begin the process and perhaps bring about the destruction of this entire feld."

Josef could feel the warmth of the crows bodies flowing into his. He was cloaked from the prying eyes of Kipfish and the rest of the Ba'ha retinue. He felt both invisible and entirely exposed. The choice lay at his feet: move and and give up on ratification; or stay still and and take what he so needed.

Josef felt as if his soul was tearing itself in half. Images of the shackled crows welled up in his mind. They were already depleted, run down, and half-broken thanks to The Ba'ha Company. Did he need to add their troubles?

The crows were barely hanging on; and yet, so was he. He had just as much a right to live as them. Josef watched as two paths spawned in his mind. Which would he take? He knew what he had to do, but he resisted it. He didn't want to make this kind of decision.

He cursed himself.

He lay still, the meadow grass beneath him. The wind ruffled the crows' feathers. He didn't shake the crows from his body as he rose up from the meadow grass. He let them linger. Josef trembled knowing the ratification process was over. He couldn't ask The Crow Meadow to chance destroying itself just to save him. He would find another way.

He took in a breath of air and wondered what he'd just done as the crows unsheathed themselves from his body like night retreating at dawn's first burst.

As the crows departed back to the central towering oak tree, he heard their voice echo in his mind once again: "And so you have chosen. You take the steep path. May this Moonsneeze be a long one."

Silence reigned once again as the crows returned to the branches of their oak tree. Josef inspected his body but there was no damage to speak of. Green light from the central tree continued to cover the entire meadow with an eerie glow.

The next thing Josef knew he was being hoisted into the air again by the same two machos and dragged back towards Kipfish who was cursing profusely. Josef couldn't feel his hearty beating. He still couldn't believe what he'd done.

"I can't believe it!" Kipfish spat out between gritted teeth. He motioned for the macho carrying his litter to bring him closer to Josef. The machos forced Josef to remain still as Kipfish's frail hand reached out and slapped him. "Why did you move, goo-drinker! Also, how are you still alive!" Kipfish slapped Josef again, dragging his nails across his cheek as he did so.

Josef thought about lying, but the truth would most likely infuriate Kipfish even more, so he choose that: "The crows were unable to ratify me," he said calmly, but then added, "because I'm too weak."

Kipfish cast his piercing gaze back at the central oak tree. "Too weak! Too weak! What is the meaning of this, crows? Since when have you turned away a goo-drinker?"

The crows cawed in response, green light still blasting out from the barren oak tree. To Josef, it sounded like they were laughing. He was so nervous. He needed to escape.

But Kipfish was furious. He turned and gripped Josef by the jaw, shaking him. "You drank our goo and now what? Now what!" Kipfish screamed again and then threw Josef's face away from him, but his milky eyes continued to stare at Josef's skull. "Useless. I guess it's true what the notes said about you. Your watchers had written you off. There had been no prophecies." He paused, crunching his bony fingers together. "What then should we call you?"

"Josef the Feeble," volunteered Gupnit as he fiddled with his nose.

Josef bowed his head, smiling. "You've got me."

"No matter," said Kipfish, recovering himself, "we will learn something from you yet. The experiment proceeds."

Josef's ears perked. What was Kipfish planning? As far as Josef knew, they didn't have access to any other felds.

Kipfish then called for Josef to be tethered to the nearest oak tree.

The Macho who'd spoken to Josef coughed. "Kipfish, we don't possess any rope."

Kipfish scratched his chin. "Gupnit!" he screamed. "Give us your robe's cord."

Josef watched as the younger brainsnake scrambled to untie the cord from his robe. His fingers fumbled, he was already blubbering.

Kipfish sighed.

Finally, Gupnit managed to untie his rope and pass it to the macho. He had to use both of his hands to keep his robe wrapped around his body.

"I'm glad you've managed to prove yourself useful, Gupnit," Kipfish said while gesturing for Josef to be tied up. "Now, as I said, goo-drinker, the experiment will continue. We will learn the exact signs and symptoms preceding your eventual implosion. We're usually too busy attempting to instruct and craft our goo-drinkers to have the time to take detailed notes such as this. We will make the most of this failed opportunity."

Josef didn't bother to struggle as the machos shoved him against an oak tree just off the path. As he landed on its roots, the surrounding crows flew up with their chains jostling and cawed ferociously at the two machos, who now wound the cord around both the tree and Josef's waist. Josef's arms were forced against his sides, his hands resting at his hips.

"Unfortunately, I won't be here to see your brain explode, goo-drinker. More important tasks await," said Kipfish as he curled his finger at Gupnit, beckoning him to come closer. "Gupnit, I task you with note-taking for this endeavour. Record everything the goo-drinker says. Every shift in his perception. Do not interfere with the process as it unfolds. I will read your report once Moonsneeze ends and you return."

Gupnit crouched away from Kipfish for fear of getting swatted, but Josef could tell he was overjoyed Kipfish had selected him for such a task. His eyes kept shifting towards Josef as if he were a bundle of figs ready to be devoured.

Josef calmed his breathing. Ten moons glistened down from the sky. Moonsneeze wasn't over yet.