CHAPTER FOUR: {THE QUEST}
Crow awoke to the sound of cawing from branch to branch, from forest floor to treetop. But instead of the confused cacophony of the night, this time the crows were all saying the same thing: “War! War! War! Time to go to war!” She saw grim determination on the faces of her siblings, her cousins, her parents and grandparents, her great-grandparents, her cousins twice-removed. Young and old, they looked and sounded serious.
Her heart sank. She wanted to burrow into her nest and never come out again. But there in her nest was the mysterious rock, irritating her and reminding her that hiding wasn’t really an option. She knew she had to do something. Was it too late to stop this?
She flew down into the center of the gathering, flapped her wings, and cleared her throat dramatically. She cawed, nervous but strong, “Dear crows, my family! I might have been mistaken about the owls…” but the war chants carried on. Those who took note of her merely said, “Oh no, you did the right thing. Who else could be to blame except the owls?” No one was listening. Getting desperate, Crow tried a different tactic: “My people! I had another dream last night!” she cawed loudly. “It told me I had to go to the mountain! I must ask the mountain itself for help interpreting my first dream! This isn’t about owls at all!” Some crows cocked their heads because crows are always interested in dreams, but the second half of Crow’s story got lost in the general din.
“Go to the mountain?” A few asked, though. “Why would you go to the mountain? Nothing good comes from the mountain.”
“Isn’t that where the owls live?”
“You can’t go to the mountain alone. Sending one crow to fight the owls is too dangerous, we need to attack all together!”
“But it could be useful to send a crow not to fight, but to spy! Let’s see how many owls we’re up against!”
Crow, desperate for any delay, agreed. “Yes!” she cawed, “I volunteer to go alone as a spy to the mountain! To see what we’re up against!”
The other crows agreed, with some younger crows swooping from branch to branch around Crow to cheer her bravery.
But Crow didn’t feel brave. She was afraid of leaving her family and setting off alone. And she was afraid of encountering owls along the way. And she was afraid of the mountain itself. And she was still afraid of that rock in her nest—things were just getting worse and worse, and none of it made any sense. But at least her family had agreed to wait until she returned with news before planning an attack. Crow said her goodbyes and took to the air, flying north and out of the forest, higher and higher, until she reached the hard landscape where trees didn’t even grow.