Caw, Caw CAW. cAw. CaCaw.

Cacaw aw, cacaw. CAcaCaw.

-Charlotte

High above the forest of men, Charlotte soared. It was her second favourite place to be, high above with the wind rushing over her feathers. The wind rushed in complex currents and eddies around her, sometimes pushing against her, other times pulling her in mighty gusts. Through it all, Charlotte flew with expert grace. She had made her to fly, and fly she would.

She circled for a moment, staying high above the massive sprawling forest she called home. The other birds who came and went from far off lands said that her home was an odd forest, not like the ones they preferred to nest within. But it was her odd forest and she loved it. The massive dull-stone trees that reached up the sky grew faster than the low wood ones that grew in odd directions about the muddy paths below. The shiny-stone top branch of those tall trees provided some of the best perches in the forest. The shiny-stone brambles far below were a little frustrating, the tops were too pointy to rest atop and her prey would often sneak underneath them for protection. But overall, she loved it all. All of her nests had been within the forest of men, and she was proud to say it to any migrating pigeon who might argue.

There were of course the twisting dull-stone paths that covered much of the ground beneath the dull-stone trees. She had seen some men-folk laying dull-stone down for them once, but when she had told the crows they had simply scoffed at her. They told her that the men-folk don't make those, they just exist, like everything else. The crows told her that the men-folk don't make anything, only take and destroy. Charlotte scoffed at that; she had seen the men-folk make a great many things.

With wings growing tired from her gliding, Charlotte made her way over to one of the taller dull-stone trees in the area. She was far from her nest now, though she knew her man-friend was in the area, and that was all that really mattered to her. She had to stay close to him, that was what She had said. So she rested atop her perch, and looked down at the bustle of life that made up the forest of men.

Looking down at it all, Charlotte realized she was beginning to grow a bit peckish. So, with her sharp eyes, she slowly searched. There was no hurry, man-friend was in the stuffy wood-cave with all the pretty woman-folk. Judging by the past few days, she wouldn't be needed for some time. The men-folk moved in odd patterns through the city, like a messy stampede of beasts, shoving and pushing against one another. She found it odd to watch, how constrained they were only living on the ground. Charlotte often wondered why they had not been given wings as well. But perhaps it was for the best, if they had been then wouldn't the skies be as cramped and messy as the ground was now? They had a habit of cluttering things up, these man-folk she lived among. Not man-friend though, he kept things tidy. She liked that.

A small, nearly imperceptible shift caught her eye from far below. Lunch. Charlotte took off from her perch, immediately entering a dive. It was close, just at the base of a squat dull-stone tree a few trees away. The wind flowed around her, the rustling of her feathers making Charlotte feel alive.

Turning her attention back to the rapidly approaching earth, Charlotte locked her gaze onto her prey. A fat rat, nearly fatter than any she had ever seen before, scurried about. A shiny-stone bramble was close, so she would have to be quick and silent. Good thing that was her specialty. Charlotte held her wings tight, keeping them close to her body so she would fall fast. She did, fast, and faster yet. The air twisting past her. She was nearly there, the earth approaching at an ever more rapid pace. Then, when she almost felt that it was too late, she unfurled her wings and thrust out her claws.

The rat didn't even have a moment to react before it was in her clutches. It squirmed desperately, so raising it quickly, she snipped its spine with her beak. Charlotte had to eat, but there was no reason for cruelty. She looked down on cruelty, and Charlotte would not disappoint Her.

Squirming or not, the rat was heavy. So as quick as she could, Charlotte flapped over to a low flat treetop, and plopped down her food. Sometimes she saw man-folk atop these trees, they would hang up their plumage on thin vines, but thankfully this one seemed devoid of them. For some odd reason they always made a fuss when she ate near them, not that they seemed to have any problems eating wherever they wanted. Men-folk were odd like that.

The fat rat was a nice lunch. Though in honesty she much preferred the small bites of food she took from man-friend. Something about man food was always just a little bit tastier to her. That, the crows had agreed with her.

Looking up now though, Charlotte saw those very crows circling high. She chirped a small laugh. It seems the little carrion birds were hungry. Well, despite what man-friend might say, she could share. With a few hops away, Charlotte opened her wings to point and say that she was done. The moment she did so, the crows above flew down to begin their own feast.

“Have you seen anything of note lately?” Charlotte asked them, waiting patiently for one of them to finish and answer.

“We see, we see.” The first of the crows, one with a larger beak, eventually answered before returning to gorge.

“The dark feathered men. They walk they walk!” The second crow, one with a cloudy eye continued. This was how these three always rambled. Or really, how most crows talked. They were dreadfully difficult to hold a conversation with, though still far easier than any pigeons Charlotte had met, and far less stuffy than the hawks that counted themselves among the man-folks ranks. Charlotte waited, she had long since learned that patience always yielded results with crows.

“The bad ones, the ones with dark feathers.” The third crow chirped, this one was the smallest, barely more than a chick. “They search they search!”

“Search for what?” Charlotte pushed. She had run into those dark plumaged man-folk before. They were trouble no doubt.

“For other man-folk. Like they always do! Always do! The bad man-folk always do!” The large beaked one continued their conversation. Charlotte nodded her head, then thanked the crows. The rat was nearly bones, and Charlotte wouldn't get anything out of the crows if they were done eating. So, she thanked them, and flew off on her own.

The bad ones with the dark plumage, Charlotte mused. She felt uneasy at the thought of them. They were dangerous, even man-friend seemed to think so. If they were searching for someone, it wasn't for anything good she knew that. She would have to be on the look out for them, keep man-friend safe from them.

A familiar whistle caught Charlotte's ear, and without even thinking she was beating her wings to get to its source. That was the sound of man-friend, that he wanted her. So she flew hard and fast.

When she arrived, he was walking away from the wood-cave that they had been nesting in lately. His shoulders were sloped, and he moved with a sluggish gate. He had been tired more often lately. She flew over and perched on his shoulder.

“Any good hunting out there?” He asked.

“Nothing in particular, just a rat.” Charlotte cawed back.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so either.” He responded, rubbing the feathers under her beak. Somehow, she had always understood him. Perhaps it was because She had sent her to him. The one who had made her. But yet, despite her ability to understand the words he said when she couldn't with the other man-folk, she felt frustrated. She needed to help him. It was what She had sent Charlotte to do. But for years now, she had not known what to do next. So, for now as always, she just rested on his shoulder and enjoyed the scratches he gave her. It was, after all, her favourite place to be in the whole world.