[piosenniel]

Pre-dawn of a new day in the Shire

In that curious hour before dawn, something stirs in the hearts and souls of birds that makes them give voice to the arrival of another sunrise. The promise of light calls forth their voices and they sing the circling back of a new day with a mighty paean of chirps and twitters and full throated warbling.

Camlost opened one beady black eye with a groan, and looked blearily out into the predawn grey light inching up on the horizon. Had he fingers he would have stuck them firmly in his ears and hunkered down for another hour or two or three. ‘No use! Those birdbrains will go on twittering until old yellow-eye deigns to show her face,’ he muttered to himself.

The old crow rose stiffly on his leg and shook his feathers out. A half hearted croak escaped him, homage to his bird heritage, as he joined in with an off-key addition to the avian chorus. Light grazed the hills and treetops in the distance and wriggled its weak way over the land. Camlost settled himself on his branch, considering where he might find some breakfast. A slight stirring noise at the base of his tree, accompanied by a muffled whoof and the sounds of yawning, scratching and licking directed his attention downward.

‘What’s this?’ he squawked as the canine raised his large head to fix his yellow eyes on the crow. ‘Someone’s left a rather large, ugly mutt at the front gate.’ He turned his head from side to side and peered more closely at the now stretching form below. ‘A wolf! And a bit flea-bitten and worn out by the looks of him!’

Camlost stretched his wings and flew up to a higher branch. He wanted to be well out of the reach of those grinning jaws should the owner decide to stretch himself up the tree trunk.

‘Hey you!’ he called down in an effort to appear friendly. ‘You have a name? Or shall I just call you “hey you”.’

[ October 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]