the balance of the blue jay

“Well, yes, of course I talk!” Aster chirped out a laugh. “Most corvids can speak your language. But most corvids also believe that if you talk to a wolf, they’ll either claim you for their pack or attack you for spying.”

Aster spread out her right wing and bowed. It was nice to be appreciated for her songs; she sang for herself, but it was always nice to have an appreciative listener. “Thank you! The song is my mother’s, and my mother’s before her, and my nieces’ after me!” Somehow every sentence that came out of the chatterbox’s beak sounded like the most enthusiastic exclamation.

“Now that you’ve met a bird who can talk and wants to talk to you, do you have a question? Sounds like you have questions, if you’ve thought about such things before.”