07-27-2016, 10:03 AM
My quiet little caws go unheeded, so I try a much louder one, my throat vibrating with the raucous sound of it as it makes its way out through my mouth. And the boy just keeps playing, rolling and tossing about and sending lovely little flurries for me to play in. So naturally I do, not minding the lack of attention when there are sparkly snowflakes to dance in, and to snap my beak at, and to stir up with a good hard flap or two of my wings.
When the boy finally looks over, I pause and mirror the tilt of his head, then hop closer and tilt my head the other way. I suspect he might not be able to hear me, because he looks a little startled to see me so close to him. He wasn’t ignoring me, then. Good, because that would have been a little bit rude, but just not hearing, well that’s a whole different story, isn’t it?
Oh, and then! With a wiggling of his dark little ears, something amazing happens! The snow condenses, gathering together and taking the shape of another bird just like me! Except white, of course, and made of snow instead of flesh and blood and feathers. It silently caws at me, and I caw right back with full voice, utterly delighted at this fantastic new trick. So much so, in fact, that my grip on my crow shape slips, and I stumble back into my filly shape, all wide eyes and baby fluff and tiny horn.
“Whoops,” I murmur, shrugging. I’ll change back when it’s time to go home. It’s still hard if I do it too much, though it’s getting easier with practice! Oh well. More important by far is my new friend! My whole body wants to wriggle with glee, but I manage to mostly restrain it to my tail, and a little waggle of my ears just like he did when he made the snow crow for me. I take a step closer to the boy, stretching out my neck so I can breathe in his cool, crisp scent. “Hi!”
Oh right. If he can’t hear me, talking is probably not the best way to say hello. Hmm, okay. Well, hopefully the huge smile and the bright eyes and the wiggly-happy all of me will convey it better than one little word could anyhow.
When the boy finally looks over, I pause and mirror the tilt of his head, then hop closer and tilt my head the other way. I suspect he might not be able to hear me, because he looks a little startled to see me so close to him. He wasn’t ignoring me, then. Good, because that would have been a little bit rude, but just not hearing, well that’s a whole different story, isn’t it?
Oh, and then! With a wiggling of his dark little ears, something amazing happens! The snow condenses, gathering together and taking the shape of another bird just like me! Except white, of course, and made of snow instead of flesh and blood and feathers. It silently caws at me, and I caw right back with full voice, utterly delighted at this fantastic new trick. So much so, in fact, that my grip on my crow shape slips, and I stumble back into my filly shape, all wide eyes and baby fluff and tiny horn.
“Whoops,” I murmur, shrugging. I’ll change back when it’s time to go home. It’s still hard if I do it too much, though it’s getting easier with practice! Oh well. More important by far is my new friend! My whole body wants to wriggle with glee, but I manage to mostly restrain it to my tail, and a little waggle of my ears just like he did when he made the snow crow for me. I take a step closer to the boy, stretching out my neck so I can breathe in his cool, crisp scent. “Hi!”
Oh right. If he can’t hear me, talking is probably not the best way to say hello. Hmm, okay. Well, hopefully the huge smile and the bright eyes and the wiggly-happy all of me will convey it better than one little word could anyhow.