There was a splashing in the shallows of the swamp. With a keen smile, Willow watched her cranes cool themselves, their feathers ruffled, fine droplets of water floating and falling around them. It was a hot day and they'd worked hard that morning; Sunset flew a great distance, practicing calls and signals with Willow while Waving Vine foraged for lunch among the foliage. It had taken him quite some time to grow used to his new lot in life since losing the use of his wing. He could no longer fly, no longer scout the skies as he had for so many seasons before. It frustrated him and Willow could tell. She found other jobs for him, kept him occupied, and finally he was back to his old self. Finally, she could breathe a sigh of relief.
Laid out beneath a tree, tail flicking idly against its roots, Willow bent to nibble at the berries Vine had collected.
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