“No, no, I would never do such a thing Silk,” replied Grunt, too afraid to look straight into
those cruel eyes.
Silk turned away, and without saying goodbye to anyone, leaped from the branch and left
for his nest to check on his prize. A crow called Faze hopped along the branch to where Grunt
was sitting.
“Why do stay with this gang Grunt?” he asked. “Maybe you should go and live with those
other crows who eat fruit and berries, those good little birds that never do anything bad.”
Grunt didn’t answer for a while, he was thinking. He often wondered why he stayed with
this bunch of bad guys. It made him feel tough and strong, even though deep inside he knew that
he should leave them. When Grunt was young he was taught to listen to the Voice inside him,
the voice of the Creator. But when he had seen Silk speeding through the air, his sharp beak
holding a wriggling caterpillar, and all those crows following him, thinking he was so tough and
cool, Grunt decided that being cool was more important than listening to the Voice.
“The eggs will be hatching soon Grunt. Just think, all those fat delicious caterpillars
crawling onto the thick branches, just waiting to be eaten,” Faze said, his small tongue sliding
along his beak.
To tell the truth, Grunt didn’t really like caterpillars. They were furry, prickly, and hard to
swallow. The first and only one he tried, he felt like he was doing something really wrong. It
wasn’t just the strange taste; it was this bad feeling inside, like he was doing an evil thing. The
Voice in his head had told him to stop, but all of the gang were watching him, daring him to do it.
He didn’t want to look like a coward or an idiot, so he grabbed that fat caterpillar and gulped it
down, and then, after coughing for a while, he tried to pretend he really liked it. He hoped that
the gang would think he was cool like them, but he didn’t feel cool, he felt like he had done a
very bad thing, he had stopped a caterpillar from ever becoming a butterfly.
“Grunt!” Faze shouted in his ear. “Did you fall asleep?”
“No, no, I was just thinking about how I can’t wait for the eggs to hatch,” he lied.
“We’ll have a feast Grunt, and next year there will be less of those fluttery butterflies flying
about. I hate butterflies,” Faze said, his black eyes staring out into the field of flowers.
Grunt stared out into the field and saw the butterflies gliding from flower to flower. It was
hard to believe that a caterpillar could become something so beautiful.
“I hate them too,” he lied, trying to look tough and angry.
“Just a few more days Grunt,” Faze said, “just a few more days and we can eat all those
caterpillars that crawl onto the thick branches.” He turned his face towards Grunt and then,
trying to sound wise, he said. “It is natural for us to eat them. We were made this way, it is
nature Grunt.”
Grunt thought about that for a moment. He had heard stories about the first crows that were
created in paradise, in some perfect garden. He couldn’t remember its name, but he thought it
started with „e’. He was told that the first crows and all the birds ate fruit and berries, but after
the humans did an evil thing, the world had changed. Perhaps it was true, he thought, or perhaps
it was just an old story.
Faze pecked his wing. “Come on Grunt; let’s go take a look at Silk’s new necklace. He is
such a great thief. He enjoys showing off his stolen stuff.”
