Wapun Meadow Coin operated boy

"You would get along famously with my younger sister Maia - she has a similar style of story-telling," Wraen remarked, when Slavik had finished. She had been attentive all the time and had chuckled around the "what's up?" moment and had jumped a little, when the "bam" had happened. All in all - a simple moral, wrapped in a cozy blanket of creativity. 

"I will tell you a story about the Bird king," she said, basing her choice on the fact that this dashing fellow could easily be one of the characters. "Once upon a time two brothers set out from their home to seek luck and fortune in the world. And after a while they came to a large oak tree in the cross-roads. They argued a bit about which road to take and then decided to split up and each take one. But, before they went their separate ways, they each left a heft scratch mark in the bark of the oak-tree. They agreed to meet come here again a year later. If the scratch mark is nice and clear, the brother is doing well. If blood seeps from it, then they are in trouble and need help," she paused. The part about bleeding oak tree had always puzzled her, but maybe it was something trees did in fairy tales.

"The older brother walked for a long time and decided to take a rest next to a beautiful forest. He was about to begin a meal, when a lame crow hopped out from the grass and approached him, asking to give some food to him as well, because he was old and frail. The older brother did not take kindly to the beggar, snarled and shooed it away, saying that, if he came back again, he would eat it on the spot," Wraen was not sure, if this part had been in the actual story, when she had heard it for the first time, but decided that it did not hurt to improvise a little. After all Slavik had no way of knowing that. 

"After his meal the older brother fell asleep, only to wake up later at night to the sound of the most beautiful song in the world. He followed it into the forest, taking notice that, while there were a lot of trees, flowers and other plants, there were not another living soul there. But the singing was so overpowering, that he forgot about his doubts. He came into a clearing, where he saw a large bird with feathers of gold and fire. The brother did not waste much time, he pounced at the bird, eager to capture it, but it flew up in the air, hit the wolf with it's wing and turned it into a tree," she finished the first part.

"Any questions up to this point?" she asked to give her audience and herself a little break.

The story is not entirely mine, but based on several folk-tales I have read as a kid.