The bird kingdom is very large. There's the palace, in the middle. On either side of it, the unclaimed parts. To the south live the passerine birds, in their passerine territory which consists of forests, fields, lakes- everything a bird could need. And further south is the sea, and far off the Island. Not many birds have been brave enough to explore the Island.

And to the north, the non passerine territory. It has fields and hills and such, like the passerine territory, but more mountains. And the most remarkable thing in the non passerine territory was the Tree.

The largest Tree the birds have ever found, even the farthest adventurers. It is covered in strange marks and the top disappears into the clouds.

It's called the tree of Ecneitnes. Some say, when it grew, that was when the birds changed. Some say, long ago, one of the strange island birds drew those marks on it, and then the birds changed. No one really knows what happened. But the tree is far back in an ancestral memory, and all they know is that it gives Ecneitnes and must be protected.

And the story begins in the forest in the unclaimed lands. Where the crows, Eifva and Grayspot live. They live a peaceful life. They mostly live on fish, which they get from the river they live by, and always have plenty of time to converse with the wetland birds, the ducks and herons and such.

"Look at all the herons! We better begin building our nest if we don't want all the sticks to be gone." Eifva suggested, watching the various types of herons form rookeries in the trees.

"Of course, Eifva. I found an old hawk nest, though. It'll save time building a nest if we nest in that, and winter will come much later." Grayspot pointed with his beak to an old hawk nest, high up in an oak tree.

Eifva nodded and preened her feathers, then took off, Grayspot close behind. She landed on the rim of the nest and looked in.

"Must be an experienced pair of hawks. This is a nice nest. With a bit of down, it'll be perfect." She announced.

"Alright. You get comfortable, I'll get us a fish." Grayspot told her, then took off, gliding to the river.

Eifva plucked a few of her feathers and down from her chest, covering the nest with the soft black down. She gave a shudder and thought about that white stork that had come only briefly to tell them the White Crow will kill the King...

She hoped that none of the eggs they laid that year would hatch into a white crow. Like most birds, she only really wanted a normal life.

If it does hatch white, I don't care. Just because of that won't mean I don't love it. Me and Grayspot will find a way to hide the white feathers. We'll always keep it with us... And teach it that the King is kind.