Where the Crow Flies

a crow is a crow is a crow.

Crowilla Cocklecaw, the Queen of the Crow Empire was furious. She was fed up. Too many of her subjects were being mistaken for ravens. She was at her wits end. She felt bad about reaching out to the fiddler and burdening her with their problem, but the Queen tried everything to no avail, she ran out of all the crow options. She heard the trumpets; The fiddler was on her way.

The Queen was a little taken back, as the Fiddler came to her in her true form. When she visited, she usually came as a big and majestic crow. The Queen raised her beak to her and said,

“I’m sorry to pull you away from whatever you were doing, but the crow empire needs your help and advice. “

“No need to be sorry, it’s my pleasure to be of service to my lovely crows. Forgive my appearing this way but I’ve been amongst the humans. It still galls me to this day that God made them in our image. Of course, there are some good ones in that lot, my Jimmy Jones for instance, but the majority of them are God’s lapdogs. I’m sorry for my little rant, I still have the smell of humans all over me. It always makes me a little loopy. So, tell me what’s got your feathers up”

Queen Cocklecaw and all the crows adored and admired the fiddler. They would follow her to the ends of the earth. She always downplayed her godhead and acted more as a friend than as the devil, an adversary to God. God and the devil had an on and off relationship. The Fiddler used that to her advantage when events warranted it.

Crowilla flew up and perched on her shoulder and said,

“We need to set the record straight once and for all, we’re crows, not freaking ravens. We keep getting accosted by God’s angels for information concerning your whereabouts and the animal kingdoms views on humans. They think we’re our traitorous cousins. Those angelic knuckleheads can’t tell the difference between a raven and a crow. I wouldn’t mind if that was all there was to it. It was a great opportunity to give those angels false information. But once they were set straight by our cousins, those traitorous ravens; the angels came back to those crows who they misidentified and imprisoned them. They put them in one of their numerous holding centers. I estimate there are thousands upon thousands of my loyal subjects languishing in their dungeons. Is there any way you can make God’s angels to stop harassing us. And I know this is an imposition, but can you talk to God about releasing my crows from his prisons.”

The Fiddler lifted the Queen up from her shoulder, gave her a kiss on the beak and put her back on her throne. She smiled and said,

“I shall have a conference with God as soon as I leave. I will offer him something He finds hard to refuse. It’s been a while since we played a game between the sheets. I’m sure he’ll grant any request that I make.”

Crowilla gave the fiddler a big wing hug and said,

“Is it no wonder why we love you so. We will be forever grateful and will have the grandest celebration upon their return with you as our most honored guest. I feel like an ingrate by asking, what about our raven problem”?

The fiddler laughed. A mirror appeared in her hand. She let the queen look into it. Crowilla caw cawed with pure joy. Her beak and the fringes of her wings were red. She and all the crows had a new devilish look.

The Fiddler said,

“No longer will you be confused with a raven. All of Gods angels will know that crows are the devil’s Honor guard.

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