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~The Fool of Crows~
You were not strong like the Hawk or wise like the Owl. You weren’t beautiful like the Swan or loud like the Gull. Cousin Raven was smarter than you, and the Robin had petite grace you lacked. The Nightingale, however, was a fool.
Crows were greedy and cunning by nature. They had to be. There was no other position left to fill so they took it upon themselves to make the most of what they could to survive.
You, on the other hand, had desired something more than that. You wished to be different.
Perhaps, you had thought, if I, too, possessed beauty in appearance and song, then I would be loved by the others as well.
Even the most unwanted rags of the Swans and Peacocks were beautiful. You took these for yourself and adorned your entire body with their leftover garments. Your voice, however, needed work.
No matter how hard you practiced, your songs could not match the Nightingales'. It had to be something in their bodies that you did not have. That had to be it. It was something they were born with. You thought that if you had it as well, your transformation would be complete. You would no longer be just a simple Crow.
You knew of a lone Nightingale whose voice was as lovely as the rest of his kind, yet he was shy by some strange nature. With your cunning wits, you had tempted him into becoming your friend if only for a little while. You learned of his kind’s customs, their opinions on things, and most important of all, where their songs came from.
“It comes from the heart,” he said. “There’s nothing more to it than that.”
The heart. Of course. It was very simple. You were amazed that you hadn’t thought of it before. So, you did just that. You took it upon yourself to sing with a Nightingale’s heart.
However, when the time came to give out your grand performance, no one was fooled. Your normal harsh voice gave you away, and in time, your true black colors were revealed for all to see.
Ashamed, you fled from the sharp words of your fellow kin. Outraged that you would want to change who you were, they chased you away. You were no longer even welcome in your own flock. You were all alone. Even the one you had befriended could no longer speak to you, for he was not of this world any longer.
I don’t understand, you thought. Where did I go wrong? Did he not say that the voice came from the heart?
You made a face and rubbed your stomach. It had to be that you were the fool all along.
You were not strong like the Hawk or wise like the Owl. You weren’t beautiful like the Swan or loud like the Gull. Cousin Raven was smarter than you, and the Robin had petite grace you lacked. The Nightingale, however, was a fool.
Crows were greedy and cunning by nature. They had to be. There was no other position left to fill so they took it upon themselves to make the most of what they could to survive.
You, on the other hand, had desired something more than that. You wished to be different.
Perhaps, you had thought, if I, too, possessed beauty in appearance and song, then I would be loved by the others as well.
Even the most unwanted rags of the Swans and Peacocks were beautiful. You took these for yourself and adorned your entire body with their leftover garments. Your voice, however, needed work.
No matter how hard you practiced, your songs could not match the Nightingales'. It had to be something in their bodies that you did not have. That had to be it. It was something they were born with. You thought that if you had it as well, your transformation would be complete. You would no longer be just a simple Crow.
You knew of a lone Nightingale whose voice was as lovely as the rest of his kind, yet he was shy by some strange nature. With your cunning wits, you had tempted him into becoming your friend if only for a little while. You learned of his kind’s customs, their opinions on things, and most important of all, where their songs came from.
“It comes from the heart,” he said. “There’s nothing more to it than that.”
The heart. Of course. It was very simple. You were amazed that you hadn’t thought of it before. So, you did just that. You took it upon yourself to sing with a Nightingale’s heart.
However, when the time came to give out your grand performance, no one was fooled. Your normal harsh voice gave you away, and in time, your true black colors were revealed for all to see.
Ashamed, you fled from the sharp words of your fellow kin. Outraged that you would want to change who you were, they chased you away. You were no longer even welcome in your own flock. You were all alone. Even the one you had befriended could no longer speak to you, for he was not of this world any longer.
I don’t understand, you thought. Where did I go wrong? Did he not say that the voice came from the heart?
You made a face and rubbed your stomach. It had to be that you were the fool all along.
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Inspired by Aesop's "Borrowed Feathers."
Contest prize for . There aren't too many Latvia stories out there. They aren't real birds, by the way. This is a story arc to The King of Larks.
Axis Powers: Hetalia and its characters belong to Himaruya Hidekazu.
This story belongs to me, *GydroZMaa.
Contest prize for . There aren't too many Latvia stories out there. They aren't real birds, by the way. This is a story arc to The King of Larks.
Axis Powers: Hetalia and its characters belong to Himaruya Hidekazu.
This story belongs to me, *GydroZMaa.
© 2013 - 2024 GydroZMaa
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I love this AU! ^^" Will you be writing more for it?