Mr. Crow Mr. Crow, what do you know that I don't, jabbering, squawking in the morning air? Are you making sure your friends are aware of an owl sleeping somewhere near? Or possibly a dirty trick - you cunning, conniving king of magic - to lure the others away so you can get to your secret, shiny prize sitting on the roadside? Eyes of charcoal, feathers darker than the Devil's soul, Mr. Crow you captivate me like no other winged wonder. Justin Farley
