Blackbeak Bluff as you climb up hillside, forest and fen

his worry for the state of his nose has landed him several feet from the cliff’s edge; when vrána sweeps up from the water below he does not startle. instead he follows her, eyes bright, wagging his tail already, as she sweeps down and lands. she does not have any plants. but her beak is clasped around a brittle-looking starfish, and there is a pretty white shell in her claws.

with an eager noise, caw noses closer to them. the starfish smells briny and of salt. he is careful when he flips it over, as he has broken the limbs of more than one. the shell is just a seashell, but seashells can be important too. and this one is very nice, a uniform ivory with streaks of soft pink laced up its sides.

“these are good. thank you!” caw chirps at her and, in the process of lowering his head to gather up his prizes, catches a glimpse of something large and white out of the corner of one eye.

his head lifts, but he is not expecting much when he looks up, and his thought process – largely oriented around the collection of seashells he is about to restart – grinds to a cartoonish halt when he sees the figure looming out of the rain.

he was not aware there are people who were that big – bright white like snow with mismatched eyes. everyone here has pretty eyes! caw likes his own red, of course. it is a good color! and they match with vrána! but they are still both the same.

“hello!” caw squints at him through the rain, tail wagging eagerly, and blinks. yes, he should know this as well! “you have pretty eyes! they nice.” he tiptoes forwards. “am caw! and vrána,” he gestures up with his nose towards the crow, who has now settled back on his shoulder. “why you here?”