She rolls the feather between her fingers; her mind flickers to the sound of bird calls in the forest, the names her father identified: crow and bluebird, loon and shrike. Spots of light slip along the forest floor, leaves murmur and the cold breeze seems to lift her with it.

The feather blows up toward the trees. A small bird, with smooth spotted with white and shaded with green and gold, darts down toward Raven's hand.