On a treetop in the country side the crows had gathered. All the clans in the area was represented. They had come from the hills, from the oat fields, from the city. Once there had been only one clan, living by the same rules, the same way. Now only the hill clans kept the ways of the old.
Their ways were threatened.
-The destruction by the Handed Ones have reached the limits of the Hill Crows’ territory. The trees are dying. Our prey are more and more scarce.
-We live off the Handed Ones, Blue said. He was the spokesman of the Scavengers, one of the city clans. – You are welcome to come to the city, but I must warn you. It’s not a good way of life. What seemed to be a never ending source of food and resources have turned out to be the doom of our ways, our dignity. Disease is flourishing, rats are ravaging our nests… (more)