A solitary golden feather is lifted as the wind moves over the hawk’s shoulder.
Chipmunks are breathless as the mountains bask in the sunlight.
Yet the hawk spins his head towards a murmuring sound close by. A lone figure, praying in the shadows of the mountain.
Peace is seldom easy, so the hawk kept silent, honoring his descendants.
Weren’t humans descended from birds of prey?
Note: Influenced by Native American creation stories.
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