Archive of Our Own

The afternoon in the woods felt… off. Too quiet. Not a single crunch of leaves, not even the buzz of an insect. Just the heavy, lukewarm air that made even the pines look half-asleep.

In the middle of that silence, a dark-blue crow with glinting eyes fluttered about carelessly, cawing out songs only she could understand. Jinx. Always Jinx, flying as if life itself were a stage built just for her show.

“Craa-craaa!” she sang as she landed on a low branch, giving her wings a proud shake. “Look at me, you boring forest—queen of the feathered chaos, right here.”

She hadn’t even finished settling in when a sharp metallic sound cut through the air.

Click!

Jinx snapped her head up just in time to catch the gleam of a makeshift weapon: a human crouched in the brush, pulling back the band of a giant slingshot. The rubber quivered, loaded with a jagged stone aimed straight at her.

“Seriously?!” she squawked, feathers ruffling. “A crow-hunter? What’s next, a scarecrow fan club?”

The human grinned, squinted one eye shut, and took aim.

Jinx puffed up her chest, ready to curse him out—even if it came down to guttural noises.
But then something happened. Something huge, fast… and clawed.

An owl.

Not just any owl: broad wings, brown feathers with silver flashes, and a look so cocky it practically said, “Baby, I got here just in time.” It was Ekko, the most unbearably flirtatious bird in the entire forest.

With a sharp screech, he dove straight at the hunter. His talons raked the man’s face, who let out a scream and dropped the slingshot.

“AAAAH, MY EYES!” the human yelled, running as if shame itself were chasing him.

Ekko landed a meter from Jinx, adjusting his wings with all the flair of a runway model.

“Did you see that?” he said, puffing up his chest. “Millimeter-precision. Talons: god-tier.”

Jinx eyed him, one wing arched.

“…And who are you? The ridiculous night-version feathered guardian?”

Ekko grinned, tilting his head with exaggerated cuteness.

“You can call me ‘your savior', baby.

Jinx cawed loudly, like a hoarse laugh.

“Please! I could’ve saved myself. If I wanted, I’d just drop this rotting branch on him and leave him crying at home.”

“Sure, sure…” Ekko replied, moving a little closer. “But admit it—you’re impressed.”

“The only thing that impresses me is how much you talk.”

There was a silence. Not an awkward one, no. It was that electric kind of silence where two birds who should ignore each other for life suddenly find themselves sharing the same tree… and something starts to spark.

Ekko looked at her with those big, bright, intense eyes. Jinx tried to hold his gaze, but ended up turning her head quickly, cawing nervously.

“Well, thanks, I guess. But don’t go playing the hero.”

Ekko smiled even wider, moving close enough that his wings nearly brushed hers.

“I’m not playing. I’m your hero.”

Jinx huffed, fluffing up her feathers.

“Ugh, you’re unbearable.”

And yet, for some reason, she didn’t move.

The forest was waking up damp after a night of drizzle. Leaves were still dripping, the ground smelled of wet earth, and the sun was trying to push its way through the branches.
Jinx was in a terrible mood.

Not because of the weather—she loved puddles, since they reflected her silhouette and gave her the perfect excuse to pounce on distracted frogs. The problem was him.

The owl.
The big owl, with that cheap-hero vibe and a charming-bird smile that hadn’t left him since he “saved” her from the hunter.

That morning, she found him perched on the tree across from her branch, standing tall, chest feathers puffed out like he was on a fashion runway.

“Really, don’t you have another branch to perch your ego on?” Jinx growled, her beak still half-twisted from sleep.

Ekko tilted his head, wearing that cheeky expression that made Jinx want to peck him.
“I could… but from here I get a better view,” he said, lowering his voice in a flirty tone.

Jinx let out a hoarse caw and adjusted her wings, trying to ignore him. But something about the way he looked at her made the feathers on her neck stand on end.

Mid-morning, while Jinx was pecking at insects at the base of an oak, Ekko appeared gliding down from above. He landed just a few steps from her in such a dramatic entrance that dry leaves swirled into the air.

“You won’t believe what I found, baby,” he announced.

Before Jinx could respond, he dropped a huge, fat, shiny worm right in front of her.

Jinx stared at it like one might stare at a piece of art… though a questionable one.
“Uh-huh… a bug. Congratulations, you discovered wildlife.”

Ekko grinned proudly and nudged it a little toward her with his claw.
“It’s not just any bug—it’s the worm. Juiciest one in the swamp. I caught it just for you.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow.
“And you expect me to melt with excitement because you brought me a drooling worm?”

“In owl world, this is like giving someone expensive flowers,” he said, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.

Jinx let out a dry laugh.
“In crow world, this is an insult. You’re basically saying I’m so weak you have to give me your… leftovers.”

Ekko laughed, not offended in the slightest.
“Well, don’t say I don’t think about you.”

She leaned down, sniffed the worm with mild disdain, and turned halfway, pretending to be indifferent.
Ekko, satisfied with his little courtship attempt, flew up to a nearby branch.

No sooner was he out of sight than Jinx turned her head, looked at the worm… and with one precise peck, swallowed it whole. Then she wiped her beak as if nothing had happened and let out a quiet caw:
“Not bad, actually.”

The next day, Jinx woke up with the sun just filtering through the leaves. The first thing she saw was a small, smooth white stone in the middle of her branch, glistening with dew.
Next to it, Ekko waited as if he had spent the whole night there.

“For you,” he said, with a slight flick of his wing.
“…A stone?” Jinx asked, craning her neck.
“It’s not a stone. Look how it shines.” He lifted it with his claw; the sunlight bounced off the wet surface.
“It’s still a stone,” she grumbled, though she examined it a second longer than she intended.

Ekko tilted his head, amused.
“I knew you’d like it. Crows love shiny things.”

“Crows love useful things,” Jinx corrected, haughty.
“Mmm… then you shine brighter than any stone in the forest,” he said, almost naturally.

Jinx felt a strange warmth creeping up her neck. She huffed to cover it.
“How romantic, feathered Romeo. Go bother a raccoon—maybe it’ll appreciate the stone.”

But when Ekko flew off, she stayed staring at the little stone until the dew dried, and eventually tucked it away among the leaves of her makeshift nest.

The third “gift” arrived in such an absurd way that Jinx didn’t know whether to laugh or peck his wing.

That midday, Ekko appeared with a bunch of wildflowers in his beak: some yellow, some purple, and a few slightly wilted ones barely holding on.

“For the prettiest crow in the forest,” he announced, setting them at her feet.

Jinx looked at him, incredulous.
“Flowers? What’s next, writing me poetry with twigs?”

“If you want,” he replied, not losing his smile.

She let out a caw that sounded like a mocking laugh, but couldn’t help sniffing the flowers. They smelled of earth She didn’t admit it out loud, but for a moment, she liked the gesture.

After three days of receiving “natural gifts,” Jinx decided it was time to strike back.
She wasn’t going to be outdone; if Ekko wanted to court her with bugs and stones, she’d show him she could be way more creative.

That afternoon, she appeared on her usual branch, sporting fake, brightly colored feathers she’d stolen from a human campfire. Some were shiny red, others metallic blue, and there was even a neon green one.

She’d spent the entire morning tucking them between her wings, as if they were part of her real plumage.

“Well? And?” she said, twirling and spreading her wings so the fake ones glittered. “Notice anything different?”

Ekko blinked, confused.
“Uh… did you… do your hair?”

Jinx cawed indignantly.
“Are you ignoring my new feathers!?”

“Sweetheart, I’m colorblind…” he replied, completely honest.

“Exactly, you’re blind! How can you not see this spectacular plumage!?” she huffed, fluffing up the fake feathers.

Ekko just stared at her, completely lost, thinking:
If she’s happy, I’m happy.

He settled down next to her in silence, and though Jinx pretended to be annoyed, her eyes sparkled behind her beak.

That night, they stayed on the same branch as the forest darkened. Jinx pecked at the dried flowers, Ekko counted the stars. Neither said it out loud, but both enjoyed the silence… and each other’s company.

The night was so clear that the forest clearing looked like an impromptu stage: the full moon hung huge between the branches, bathing the ground in silver light.
Jinx sat on a rock, adjusting one of her fake feathers that had come loose earlier in the afternoon.
Hearing the soft flap of wings behind her, she turned her head with an annoyed caw:

“You again?"

Ekko landed with all the elegance he could muster—which wasn’t much—and stood in front of her, puffing out his chest.

“Tonight, you’re about to witness history, baby.” His voice carried a solemn, almost epic tone.

Jinx craned her neck, suspicious.
“What are you gonna do? Another motivational speech about worms?”

“You underestimate me,” he said with a sideways grin. “I’m here to show you my mating dance.”

Jinx let out a raspy laugh that echoed through the trees.
“No way! What kind of nighttime circus is this?”

“The best in the forest. And admission’s free for you,” Ekko replied, giving a clumsy but charming bow.

Without waiting for permission, Ekko began.
He took a few sideways steps, spun on his left foot, and fanned out his wings. The moonlight made the edge feathers glitter, like they were dusted with silver.

Jinx watched him with her beak slightly open, unsure whether she was impressed or ready to laugh.

“Are you… posing?” she finally asked.

“It’s just the beginning,” he replied, tilting his head at such an exaggerated angle that his feather crest wobbled.

He stayed still for a few seconds, showing his right profile, then the left, as if expecting applause.

Jinx huffed.
“You look like some cheap bird magazine model.”

“Thanks, that was the idea,” Ekko said, winking at her.

Ekko started strutting in circles around the rock, lifting his feet higher than necessary with every step, keeping to a rhythm he made up as he went.
Every now and then, he would hop to the center, spread his wings with a silent “ta-da!”, and return to the circle.

The rhythm became so steady that even a few nearby crickets stopped chirping, curious about the show.

Jinx settled on the rock, crossing her wings over her chest, trying to keep a straight face… but her beak twitched with laughter.

“I’d swear you’re strutting for a beauty contest,” she commented, letting out a muffled caw.

“It’s called strutting,” Ekko corrected in a theatrical voice. “All part of the strategy.”

“Yeah, strategy so predators can laugh before eating you.”

Then came the most intense part.
Ekko stopped abruptly, crouched slightly, and with a quick push, leapt into the air, flapping his wings hard enough to kick up dust from the clearing.
He landed with a small bow toward Jinx and repeated the move, but this time added a spin in midair before touching down.

“How’s that?” he asked, panting, trying not to slip.

Jinx’s eyes went wide, impressed for a moment, but she quickly brought back her sarcasm.
“Five points for the jump… zero for the landing.”

Ekko laughed, shaking a wing as if dusting himself off.
“I’ll do better in the next round.”

What came next was what Jinx dubbed “the ridiculous part.”
Ekko started moving his head in smooth circles, then up and down in a curious rhythm, while keeping the rest of his body upright.

“What… are you doing?” she asked, tilting her own neck.

“This,” Ekko said without stopping, “is pure courtship science. Ladies love a graceful sway.”

“Ladies or chickens,” Jinx retorted, covering her beak to keep from bursting out laughing.

The owl continued with a few sideways steps synced to the sway, finishing with a full spin, wings spread like a theatrical fan.

As the grand finale, Ekko puffed out his chest, lifted his beak toward the moon, and let out a deep, long call that echoed through the trees—a hoot so powerful that even a couple of rabbits poked their ears out from the underbrush.

Jinx watched him in silence for a few seconds, somewhat taken aback by the echo it created in the forest.

“I didn’t know you could… do that,” she admitted at last.

Ekko lowered his head, still smiling, and said in a playful tone,
“I’ve got my tricks.”

Jinx tried to keep a straight face, but ended up letting out a caw that sounded like laughter.

“So?” he asked, lifting his beak slightly. “Impressed?”

Jinx blinked a couple of times, swallowing another laugh.
“If I were an owl… I think I’d faint from shock.”

Ekko let out a hoarse chuckle, leaning toward her.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

For the first time, Jinx didn’t respond with immediate sarcasm. She stared at him for a couple of seconds, almost without realizing it, before looking away and murmuring,
“You don’t dance that badly… for an owl.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, doll,” he said, his smile softer this time.

They both settled on the highest branch of the nearby oak, exhausted from the impromptu performance.
The clear sky was full of stars, and the night air was cool and calm.
Their wings brushed lightly, and neither moved away.

Jinx spoke first, breaking the silence:
“If you tell anyone I saw your dance, I’ll pluck a feather from you.”

Ekko chuckled softly, gazing at the horizon.
“Deal. Though I guess I’ll have to dance for you again someday.”

“Not a chance…” Jinx said, but a barely noticeable smile crept across her beak.

Dawn was just breaking, and the forest was still shrouded in mist.
On the highest branch of an old oak, Ekko slept deeply, his head tucked under a wing, completely oblivious to the world.
Jinx, on the other hand, had been awake for a while. She had spent the night pacing along her branch, restless, thinking about the approaching winter.

Tired of watching him sleep so peacefully, she stretched her neck and gently pecked him on the head.

“Hey! Wake up, lazy owl!”

Ekko let out a low groan, barely moving his wing to push her away.
“Mmm… five more minutes…”

“No!” Jinx insisted, giving him a harder peck. “Come on, get up. We need to talk.”

The owl opened one eye, confused and still half-asleep.
“What could be so important that it can’t wait until real sunrise?”

“Winter,” she said, feigning seriousness. “The cold’s coming, and this tree is way too exposed. We need to move farther west, where the forest is denser and there are better branches for nesting.”

Ekko lifted his head, arching his neck with suspicion.
“West, huh?” he murmured, half-smiling. “You sure you’re not just making all this up to convince me to build a nest together?”

Jinx clicked her beak, feigning indignation.
“Of course not! This is pure… survival strategy.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Ekko yawned, stretching his wings lazily. “So, purely for ‘strategy,’ you want me to haul twigs, feathers, and mud to build a shared nest.”

Jinx straightened up, flapping her wings with a scandalized caw.
“It’s not shared! It’s… a collective nest. For two adult birds… who care about their health.”

“So… a nest together,” he summarized, grinning cheekily.

She snorted, giving him a gentle nudge with her wing.
“Ugh, you’re unbearable.”

“And yet you want me to do the heavy lifting,” Ekko laughed, stretching.

Jinx tilted her head haughtily.
“Because you’re strong. And because I’ve got a better eye for design. I don’t want a boring nest—I want one… with style.”

Ekko looked at her amused.
“I can already see it ending up full of fake feathers, shiny stones, and stolen flowers.”

Jinx smirked, not denying a thing.
“Obviously. A home needs personality.”

The sun was just peeking through the branches when Ekko finally stretched fully awake. Jinx was already hurrying him along with persistent caws, pecking at a dead branch.

“Come on, slowpoke owl! The west isn’t going to come find us,” she exclaimed, flapping her wings impatiently.

Ekko stretched his neck and looked at her with half-closed eyes, still half-asleep.
“If I keep up with your pace, we’re going to end up in the Pacific.”

“Exaggerator. It’s just a couple of trees over,” Jinx replied, though her tail twitched with excitement.

They set off together, gliding from branch to branch as the mist dissolved in the sunlight.
Jinx led the way, flying low and commenting on every tree she saw:

“Too dry…”
“Way too crooked…”
“That one looks haunted…”

Ekko, following a little above her, couldn’t stop smiling at her demands.

“Are we looking for a tree to live in or to shoot a horror movie?” he joked.

“A home worthy of a queen like me,” she shot back, puffing out her chest.

“And for a poor owl who just wanted to sleep in peace,” Ekko added with mock resignation.

Jinx turned to stick out her tongue (if she had one) and let out a caw that sounded like a teasing laugh.

After a good while inspecting the forest, they found an old willow leaning over the creek.
Its branches were thick but flexible, hanging like green curtains over the water that sparkled in the midday light.

Jinx landed on one of the low branches and spun in circles, inspecting the spot with a critical eye.
“I like it. Shade, a view of the water, and space to decorate.”

Ekko perched beside her, evaluating the trunk with a more practical expression.
“And it’s sturdy. I don’t want to wake up one day on the ground because of your extra decorations.”

Jinx gave him a gentle nudge with her wing.
“Don’t be such a party pooper. This tree’s going to look amazing.”

“I can already picture the show,” he said with a half-smile. “Framed worms, shiny little stones in every corner…”

“And fake feathers, don’t forget,” she added enthusiastically.

Ekko sighed but didn’t argue. Deep down, he loved seeing her so animated, so happy.

They decided they had to start immediately, before the rain arrived.
Jinx swooped down to the ground and began gathering thin twigs, while Ekko went after the longer, sturdier branches.

“You bring the boring stuff, I bring the pretty things,” she said, carrying a small branch decorated with lichen.

“You bring the fragile stuff, I bring what holds up the roof,” Ekko corrected, lifting a fairly heavy branch with his beak.

“It’s called decoration, not fragility,” Jinx huffed, but she couldn’t help smiling.

Back and forth, they built a pile of branches, dry leaves, moss, and a couple of flowers torn from the creek’s edge.
Jinx, of course, also found white pebbles and a few loose feathers from other birds that she deemed “essential for style.”

They hauled everything up to the willow with effort. Ekko took charge of weaving the thickest branches together, making sure the nest was sturdy.
Jinx filled in the gaps with moss, soft leaves, and the shiny decorations she had collected.

“This is going to look so nice the other crows will want to come visit us,” she said, carefully placing a white pebble on the edge.

“As long as you don’t start charging admission, I’m fine with it,” murmured Ekko, holding a branch in his beak.

“Not a bad idea…” Jinx smiled, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

When they finished the base, they paused for a few seconds to admire their work.
The nest, perched in the willow, looked spacious and cozy, with a clear view of the creek and hanging leaves draping over it like a natural canopy.

Ekko sighed with satisfaction.
“Not bad. Feels… homey.”

Jinx nodded, but immediately flapped her wings energetically.
“But it’s still missing something! It needs more color, more sparkle… more life.”

“More weight, you mean,” Ekko teased, but let her continue decorating.

While they worked, they argued over minor details:
Jinx wanted to place a fake blue feather right in the center of the nest “because it gives it personality.”
Ekko said it was in the way.

Jinx insisted on adding a couple of wilted flowers because “they smell like the countryside.”
Ekko pointed out they would attract insects.

In the end, Jinx won almost every argument, and Ekko just shrugged.
“If my Jinx is happy, I’m happy,” he thought to himself again.

As the sun began to sink behind the trees, the two of them settled inside their new nest, exhausted but satisfied.
The fresh air carried the scent of water and leaves, and for the first time all day, all they could hear were the soft sounds of the forest.

Jinx, staring at the reddish sky peeking through the branches, murmured,
“Not so bad, making a nest with you…”

Ekko turned his head to look at her, smiling calmly.
“Told you. You didn’t need to make up the whole winter thing.”

She nudged him with her wing, feigning indignation.
“It was for survival!”

“Sure, baby… pure survival strategy,” he laughed.

They stayed silent after that, watching the sky darken.
For the first time, the willow felt like a real home.

The crackle of dry branches broke the calm of the willow.
Ekko lifted his head immediately, alert, while Jinx ruffled her feathers and crouched, ready to fly.

At the edge of the creek, two human figures appeared: Vi, with a big smile and a rifle slung over her shoulder; and Caitlyn, walking beside her with a calm demeanor but eyes fixed on the nest.

“I told you this was a good spot to practice shooting,” Vi commented, adjusting her rifle with pride. “And with that rock over there, we can improvise a target.”

“Perfect,” Caitlyn replied softly, though her attention remained on the willow and the blue crow watching her from above.

The metallic sound of the guns moving made Jinx take a step back, huffing with a rough caw.
Ekko stretched a wing in front of her in a protective gesture.

“Great,” Jinx murmured quietly to Ekko, “they’re armed. Next thing, they’ll probably want feathers for their hats.”

Ekko tilted his beak with a restrained smile, trying to calm her.
“Relax, honey… they’re probably just passing through.”

Vi looked up at the nest and smiled, amused.
“Check out that duplex you’ve built. Way cooler than my apartment.”

Caitlyn stayed silent for a few seconds, squinting at Jinx. Then she tilted her head slightly toward Vi and spoke in a low, dry tone that almost sounded like a warning:

“Let’s not get too close. Crows… usually bring bad luck.” Her eyes stayed fixed on Jinx, without a hint of fear, just analyzing. “They’re too familiar with death.”

Vi raised her eyebrows, surprised.
“What? Now you’re telling me this bird is an omen?”

“It’s not a bird,” Caitlyn replied calmly. “It’s a crow. And I don’t believe in superstitions, but I’d rather not tempt fate.”

Jinx let out a caw so loud it echoed over the water.
“I swear I get you, and I don’t like what you’re saying!” she shrieked to Ekko in her crow language, flapping her wings.

Ekko had to hold back a laugh as he murmured to her:
“Blue, calm down… they don’t know you can insult them.”

Jinx shot him a fiery look.
“They can feel it anyway, you’ll see.”

Vi stepped forward, raising her hand in a gesture of peace.
“Relax, we’re not going to bother your little nest. We just wanted to use that rock for target practice.”

Ekko’s wing rose a little in front of Jinx again, in protective mode.
Caitlyn, on the other hand, simply nodded slightly, keeping her distant composure.

The next morning dawned clear, with sunlight filtering through the willow’s green leaves.
The new nest smelled of fresh moss, but Jinx wasn’t satisfied.
While Ekko slept, she circled around the nest, inspecting every corner with a critical eye.

“It’s nice, but it’s missing something…” she murmured to herself, pecking at one of the little stones she had placed on the edge. “More color… more sparkle… something that says ‘we’re classy birds.’”

Ekko, half buried in the moss and still half-asleep, opened one eye.
“Baby, it’s a nest, not an art gallery.”

Jinx ignored him with the authority of someone who already had a plan in mind.
“I’m going to look for some twigs with lichen and, if I’m lucky, some fresh flowers.” She leapt out of the nest with an agile hop, letting out a teasing caw. “Try not to mess the place up while I’m gone.”

Ekko watched her fly off among the willow’s leafy curtains.
“Knowing her, she’ll come back with half the forest under her wing,” he murmured to himself before sinking back into the moss.

Jinx moved through the damp bushes, her eyes sparkling, exploring every corner of the forest like an expert collector.
She found a twig covered in emerald-colored lichen and set it aside.
Then she spotted a pair of pink wildflowers and held them in her beak, proud of her find.

“This is going to look amazing—Ekko’s going to have to admit I’ve got talent,” she told herself, puffing out her chest.

She continued downstream, near a clearing where the water formed a small, crystal-clear puddle.
That’s when something caught her attention: a whitish glimmer among a pile of dry leaves.

Curious, she pecked aside the leaves.
There, half-hidden among fallen branches, lay a small egg, cream-colored with brown speckles.
It seemed untouched, but there was no nest around it, nor any sign of other birds nearby.

Jinx tilted her head, intrigued.
“And what are you doing all alone here?” she whispered, gently nudging it with the tip of her beak.

Of course, no one answered. The egg stayed still, cold to the touch.
Jinx glanced around, half-expecting an angry mother to appear, but only the wind stirred the leaves.

“Abandoned…” she murmured, her eyes lighting up with that mischievous spark that always spelled trouble.
“But it would look so pretty in the nest…”

She leaned down, carefully circled it with her wing, and lifted it gently, as if she had found a shiny treasure.

“If no one wants it, it’s mine now,” she decided, letting out a satisfied caw.
“It’s going to be the centerpiece of the décor.”

She strutted back to the willow with purpose, holding the egg against her chest to keep it from falling.
Ekko was half-asleep when he heard the soft flutter of wings and opened one eye.

“What did you bring this time?” he asked, already resigned.

Jinx landed in the nest with a nimble hop and placed the egg right in the center, like it was a luxury ornament.
“Look at this beauty. It’s perfect.”

Ekko straightened up, blinking at the egg.
“…Are you serious?”

“Of course. Nobody was using it, and it’s going to look gorgeous here.”

The owl leaned in for a closer look, frowning.
“Jinx, that’s not an ornament. It’s a real egg.”

Jinx puffed out her feathers, proud.
“That’s exactly why. It’s original. Plus, it was all alone. Now it’s ours.”

Ekko stared at her for a long moment, then sighed, bringing a wing to his forehead.
“You do realize that if we’re keeping it here, someone’s going to have to incubate it, right?”

Jinx shrugged, completely unfazed.
“And that someone is you. You’re bigger—you’ve got more wing to cover it.”

Ekko let out a low laugh, resigned to his fate.
“Of course… how didn’t I see this coming?”

Jinx watched him as he carefully settled over the egg, spreading his wings to cover it.
For a brief second, his expression shifted: he stopped looking like the mischievous crow and became oddly gentle.

“You look… like a responsible forest dad,” she remarked with a half-smile.

Ekko lifted his head slightly, wearing a tired grin.
“Guess I can’t escape the reputation of carrying everything… even eggs.”

Jinx settled next to him, resting her head on the edge of the nest as she looked at the egg with satisfaction.
“It’s going to look beautiful. And now the nest has even more personality.”

Ekko shook his head, but couldn’t help smiling.

The egg had only been in the nest for an afternoon, and Ekko was already settled on it, patient and methodical, as if he’d been preparing for this his whole life.
His wings spread out like a warm blanket, and his beak resting on his chest gave him a paternal air that Jinx found… uncomfortably adorable.

She watched him from the side, wings crossed and brow furrowed.
“You look way too comfortable there,” she commented, trying to sound indifferent.

“Someone has to keep it warm,” Ekko replied naturally. “And clearly, I’m the one for the job.”

“Clearly?” Jinx arched her neck, offended. “That egg is mine! I found it!”

Ekko smiled without lifting his gaze.
“Yes, but I’ve got bigger wings.”

“I don’t care! I want to sit on it too!” Jinx squawked, flapping her wings.

The owl let out a low laugh, as if he’d expected that reaction.
“It’s not a pillow, jinx.”

“I know what it is!” she shot back, puffing out her chest. “But I can incubate it too. I’m not letting you take all the credit.”

Ekko looked at her, a playful glint in his eyes.
“You want us to take turns?”

“No. I want to start now.” Jinx stepped forward decisively and, before he could react, gently pushed him aside with her wing.
“Go get food. I’ll take care of the egg.”

Ekko let himself be moved, smiling in resigned amusement.
“Alright, but don’t squash it. It’s not a collectible rock.”

“I know how to take care of delicate things!” protested Jinx, settling over the egg with the confidence of someone who had absolutely never done this before.
She flapped her wings a little, spun in circles until she found the right position, and finally lowered herself onto the egg with a proud flourish.

“There. Look how professional I am.”

Ekko studied her for a moment longer, nodding.
“You’re… surprisingly convincing.”

Jinx lifted her beak with a diva-like air.
“Now go get food. The egg and I have things to discuss.”

Ekko let out a laugh and took off into the sky.
“I’ll be back soon—don’t fall asleep.”

“I’m not going to sleep!” she shouted, fluffing her feathers as if she were going to guard the egg with all her being.

At first, Jinx stayed alert, eyes scanning every direction like a protective mother.
She spoke to the egg in a low voice, as if it could hear her:
“You’re going to look so pretty in the center of the nest… you’re going to be the cutest decoration in this whole forest.”

She settled in more snugly, making sure to cover it completely.
But the warmth of the moss and the gentle sway of the branches in the breeze started to take effect.

“I’m not going to sleep…” she murmured with a yawn. “I’m just closing my eyes for a little bit…”

Before she knew it, her head tipped to the side, and she fell into a deep sleep on top of the egg, her wings sprawling messily around her.

A little while later, Ekko returned with a couple of insects and some seeds in his beak.
He landed softly on the edge of the nest, ready to joke about her absence, but what he saw left him silent for a moment.

Jinx was sprawled across the egg, fast asleep, with one of her fake feathers stuck to the tip of her beak and a faint snore barely audible.
The egg peeked out just under her wing, perfectly covered.

Ekko set the food aside and smiled fondly.
“I told you not to fall asleep…” he whispered, careful not to wake her.

He settled down next to her, covering them both with a wing, as if completing an impromptu family scene.

For the first time since they had met, the willow felt quiet, warm, and surprisingly like home.

The next dawn brought a gentle dew that dotted the willow’s leaves.
Ekko woke up first; Jinx was still curled up on the egg, her beak tucked under her wings and her feathers a little tousled.
The owl smiled at how peaceful she looked but decided to let her sleep a bit longer—she looked strangely sweet, even though she would surely deny it.

When Jinx opened her eyes, she noticed Ekko arranging some twigs to reinforce the edge of the nest.

“Did I sleep too long?” she asked, stretching without moving off the egg.
“Long enough for you to snore a little,” Ekko replied with a teasing smile.
“No way!” she protested, puffing out her feathers. “Crows don’t snore.”

Ekko chuckled quietly, shaking his head.

They decided—or rather, Ekko decided—that they would take shifts to incubate the egg.
Jinx reluctantly agreed, arguing that “it was her decorative egg and she should be the one to watch it,” while Ekko insisted he didn’t want it to get cold.

“I swear, I already feel like a responsible dad,” he joked, covering the egg with his wings.
“I can be responsible too,” Jinx replied, but instead of helping, she busied herself pecking at a fake blue feather to place it near the egg. “Look, now the baby has its own accessory.”

“It doesn’t need accessories,” Ekko said, but he left the feather where she put it.

Over the next few days, they took turns keeping the egg warm.
Jinx spoke to it as if it could already understand her:

“When you’re born, you’re going to have the prettiest wings…” she whispered, gently tapping it with her beak. “And I promise I won’t let that serious owl bore you.”

Ekko, on the other hand, stayed quiet while incubating, patient as a rock.
Sometimes, when Jinx wasn’t looking, he would cast soft glances at the egg, as if he had already accepted the responsibility.

One night, while they were sharing their turn keeping watch, Jinx whispered:
“When it comes out… I hope it’s a crow. It would be nice if it looked like me.”

“I don’t mind if it’s an owl,” Ekko replied, yawning. “Although if it has your temper… I feel sorry for it.”

Jinx nudged him with her wing, laughing.

One morning, while the forest was still shrouded in mist, a faint cracking sound woke Jinx.
She blinked in confusion and looked down: the egg had a small crack on the top.

“Ekko, something’s happening!” she chirped excitedly, shaking it gently.

Ekko sat up instantly, eyes wide and round.
“Don’t shake it, baby. That means it’s about to hatch.”

Jinx lowered her beak close to the crack, eyes shining with excitement.
“That fast? We were barely getting organized to be parents!”

Ekko let out a playful huff.
“There’s no instruction manual, just patience.”

The cracks slowly spread, and Jinx could hardly stay still.
She fluttered with excitement every time she heard a new crack.

“Come on, little one, come out already!” she cheered at the egg, as if she could speed up the process.

Ekko, on the other hand, stayed calm.
“Relax, it needs its time.”

Finally, a small piece of the shell broke away, revealing something yellow and wet.
Jinx’s beak dropped open.

“It’s… it’s…! It doesn’t look like a crow!”

The shell cracked completely, and out came a tiny fluffball of yellow feathers, with a tiny beak and bright brown eyes.
The newborn let out a sharp chirp that echoed through the willow.

“What kind of hybrid came out of us?!” Jinx cried, horrified but fascinated.

Ekko looked at the little one with a mix of surprise and tenderness.
“I think… it’s a duckling.”

The duckling blinked, shaking off the last bits of shell, and let out another, stronger chirp.

“I don’t know, but it’s ours now,” Ekko added with a soft smile.

Jinx looked at him, still in disbelief, then lowered her head toward the duckling.
“Well, I guess we’re… duck parents now.”

The duckling—whom Jinx had already started calling Isha without even asking Ekko—soon clumsily waddled over to Ekko’s wing, seeking warmth.
The owl instinctively tucked it under his wing, while Jinx watched the scene with a mix of pride and confusion.

“Look at it… it already chose you,” she said, crossing her wings.

“Shows who inspires the most trust,” Ekko replied with a wink.

Jinx flopped down beside them, letting out a sigh.
“This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done… and my list of weird stuff is long.”

Ekko chuckled softly, gently nudging the little duckling with his wing.
“You’ll get used to it. Being family isn’t that bad.”

Jinx avoided looking him directly in the eyes, but a small smile tugged at her beak as she watched Isha drift off to sleep.

The next morning brought a new sound to the willow:
a sharp, enthusiastic squeak that came from neither Jinx nor Ekko.

“Guess who got up before the sun…” murmured Ekko, yawning as he peeked out from under his wings.

The little duckling, Isha, was already standing on its tiny orange feet, wobbling determinedly toward the edge of the nest.

Jinx, still half-asleep, shot upright.
“Hey, hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going, little chick?” she exclaimed, raising a wing to stop it.

The duckling let out an annoyed quack, as if protesting the interruption.

Ekko chuckled quietly.
“This is going to be chaos… I can feel it.”

The following days were a whirlwind of new routines.
Ekko tried to keep the nest tidy, while Jinx filled it with useless decorations to “make it cozy.”

“We don’t need any more fake feathers,” Ekko complained, pushing one Jinx had stuck to the edge aside.
“Of course we do!” she shot back. “Isha likes them—look at how he pecks at them.”

The little duckling was indeed busy trying to pull at the shiny feather.

“That doesn’t count as decoration, baby,” murmured Ekko, resigned.

At night, the duckling would snuggle under Ekko’s wing, using his soft feathers like a mattress.
Jinx watched the scene with a small pout.

“He’s stealing my spot,” she grumbled once.
Ekko glanced at her, amused.
“There’s room for both of you, don’t be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” Jinx lied, turning her back.

One midday, as the sun lit up the stream running near the willow, Jinx peeked at the water with Isha in her beak.
“It’s time you learn to swim, little one,” she said with a determined air.

Ekko came down behind her, frowning.
“Baby, it’s too soon.”

“He’s a duck! He was born to swim!” Jinx replied confidently.

Ekko sighed and perched on a rock, keeping watch.
“At least let me stay close in case something goes wrong.”

Jinx lowered herself to the shore and gently placed Isha in the water.
The little duckling floated without a problem, paddling his tiny feet as if he’d been doing it all his life.

“Look! He’s doing it already!” Jinx exclaimed, surprised.

But as soon as Isha tried to move a bit further toward the center, Jinx panicked.
“Too far! Come back here!” she squawked, extending a protective wing.

Ekko stepped into the water too, though barely wetting his feet.
“Baby, he’s swimming perfectly, relax.”

“He’s so tiny! The water’s scary!” Jinx insisted, flapping her wings to push Isha back toward the shore.

Isha, confused, let out an annoyed squawk and splashed water over both of them.

The rest of the afternoon turned into a competition over who could teach swimming better:

Jinx insisted on staying glued to Isha, guiding every movement,
while Ekko tried to stay calm and let the little duck explore on his own.

“You’ve got to let him drift a little,” Ekko said.
“No! If he drowns, it’ll be your fault,” Jinx shot back.

At one moment of distraction, Isha dove under the water for a few seconds and surfaced, paddling his little feet as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

“See?” Ekko said, smiling proudly. “He’s braver than both of us.”

Jinx went silent, her eyes wide.
“I was just testing… of course I knew he could do it…”

Ekko didn’t say a word, but his teasing grin said it all.

As evening fell, they returned to the nest, soaked but laughing.
Isha snuggled under Ekko’s wing while Jinx, still a little nervous, gave the little duck gentle pecks to dry his feathers.

“I never thought I’d end up living like this…” Jinx murmured, watching the little one drift off to sleep.
“Neither did I,” Ekko admitted, settling next to her. “But… it’s not so bad.”

Jinx glanced at him from the corner of her eye and gave a small smile.
“Don’t get all sentimental on me, owl.”

Ekko chuckled softly and lowered his wing to cover the three of them, forming a warm, quiet little refuge.

The willow was peaceful that afternoon—until the crackle of dry branches announced visitors.
Jinx, keeping an eye on Isha splashing in a puddle, ruffled her feathers and let out a harsh, warning squawk.
Ekko dropped down beside her, spreading a protective wing.

From the bushes appeared Vi and Caitlyn, weapons slung over their shoulders.
Vi raised a hand in a friendly greeting.
“Relax, we don’t want any trouble.”

Jinx didn’t lower her wing, her feathers bristling, and let out a louder, sharper, rasping squawk.

Vi stopped a few steps from the willow, laughing nervously.
“Okay… okay… looks like she doesn’t like me.”

Caitlyn gently grabbed her arm, her usual serious expression in place.
“Don’t get any closer,” she said softly. “Crows are territorial… it could attack you.”

Vi raised an eyebrow, unable to hide a smile.
“Now we’re scared of crows?”

“No,” Caitlyn replied calmly. “I just prefer not to provoke her.”

While the humans kept a safe distance, Isha peeked out from under Jinx’s wings and let out a tiny quack.
His little eyes sparkled with curiosity.

Vi leaned in slightly to get a better look, smiling in surprise.
“A duck? You have a duck in the nest?”

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes, intrigued.
“What a… strange combination.”

Realizing the little duck was on display, Jinx immediately covered him with her wing and let out another sharp caw, almost a growl.
Ekko stayed still beside her, though his eyes followed every move the humans made.

Vi raised her hands in surrender.
“Relax, we don’t want to touch him.”

Jinx only replied with another hoarse craaak, making it clear she didn’t trust them.

Vi sighed and looked at Caitlyn.
“Maybe we could do something to make them more comfortable, right?”

Caitlyn considered it, scanning the willow and the nest.
“A little feeder and a tiny house wouldn’t hurt.”

That same day, they returned with a small birdhouse and a wooden feeder, setting them up on a low branch, close enough for Isha to get inside.

Ekko tilted his head, curious.
Jinx watched them with furrowed brows and crossed wings, still wary, but her eyes lit up slightly when she saw the bowl full of fresh seeds.

Vi, finishing adjusting the feeder, smiled.
“All set. Enjoy it.”

Caitlyn gave a slight nod, and the two of them left, leaving the forest in peace.

As night fell, Isha slept curled up under Ekko’s wing, while Jinx kept watch over the new little house, trying to act indifferent though she couldn’t stop looking at it.

“You like it, don’t you?” Ekko murmured, his eyes still on the little duck.

Jinx let out a soft caw, almost a huff, and turned her head the other way, hiding a small smile.

Ekko lowered a wing, covering all three of them, and the willow filled with silence again, lit only by the moon.
An improvised family at peace: a dashing owl, a stubborn crow, and a little yellow duckling that had changed everything.

The willow woke to a different kind of morning: the air smelled of damp moss, but there was also a strange tension hanging over the nest.
Ekko, long used to Jinx’s antics, noticed right away that she was unusually quiet, huddled over something.

“Baby… you okay?” he asked, tilting his head to get a better look at her.

Jinx didn’t answer. She just let out a sharp craaaak—the kind of sound she used when she didn’t want to be bothered.

Ekko took a step closer and saw eleven small, bluish eggs tucked beneath her wings.
He froze for a moment, caught off guard.

“Well… this I did not see coming,” he muttered with a half-smile.

Jinx lifted her beak, wearing an expression that left no room for jokes.
“Don’t get too close.”

“I just wanted to look,” Ekko said, his feathers ruffling at her warning.

“No.” Jinx lowered her wings further, covering the eggs completely. “They’re fragile. No one touches them.”

From the glint in her eyes, Ekko could tell she’d slipped straight into full mama-crow mode.
He just nodded, doing his best not to laugh.

From that day on, Jinx barely left the nest.
She spent hours fussing with her feathers over the eggs, pecking at any twig that seemed out of place, and letting out sharp warning caws at anyone who came too close… including Ekko.

Isha, now a little bigger, eyed the eggs with growing curiosity. But every time he tried to waddle closer, Jinx snapped out a sharp craaaak that sent him scurrying back to his corner.

“Baby, you can’t keep scaring Isha like that,” Ekko said one morning.
Jinx shot him a deadly glare.
“He’s one wing away from touching the eggs.”

“He’s just curious…” Ekko tried to reason with her, but gave up the moment he saw she wasn’t budging.

In the end, Ekko handled everything—fetching food, keeping Isha entertained, and making sure the nest stayed sturdy.
He didn’t complain, but sometimes he’d glance at Jinx and smile with a kind of resigned amusement.
“Guess I should hang a sign that says ‘Dad in charge of everything.’”

One especially warm afternoon, Ekko figured Isha could use a swim to burn off some energy.
The little duckling had been pecking at everything around him, clearly bored of being cooped up.

Ekko glanced at Jinx, who sat huddled over the eggs like a statue.
“Baby, why don’t you come down to the stream with us? Stretching your wings would do you good.”

“I’m not leaving the eggs,” she replied, as solid and unmovable as a rock.

“They’re safe. Nothing’s gonna happen if we’re gone just a little while,” he tried again, stepping closer. “I promise we’ll be back before you know it.”

Jinx narrowed her eyes, clearly torn.
“No.”

Ekko let out a long sigh.
“Come on, Jinx. Isha’s going stir-crazy up here, and you could use a break too.”

Jinx lowered one wing and pecked at the rim of the nest, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I’m not leaving the nest.”

Ekko studied her for a moment, realizing there was no point in arguing any further.
“Alright then… I’ll take him myself.”

Ekko climbed down from the willow with Isha right behind him, thrilled to finally get to the water.
Jinx watched them go with a mix of pride and anxiety, letting out a short, sharp caw as if to warn them to come back soon.

Ekko just lifted a wing in acknowledgment.
“Come on, kid,” he murmured to Isha, “before she changes her mind.”

The stream was calm, and Isha darted straight into the water, splashing around with pure delight.
Ekko stayed at the edge, keeping a watchful eye on her, unable to stop thinking about how much his life had changed since he’d met that blue-feathered crow.

The sun spilled gold over the stream as Ekko rested beneath a low rock while Isha happily paddled after leaves drifting downstream.
The owl savored that rare moment of peace—until he heard the crunch of human footsteps approaching.

“Well, well… what’s this dynamic duo?” said a familiar voice.

Ekko lifted his head—it was Vi, carrying a backpack and something dangling from her hand.
It was a tiny knitted hat, blue with a ridiculous little pom-pom at the tip.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” Ekko muttered under his breath, not expecting her to understand.

Vi crouched down by the water’s edge with a wide grin.
“Hey there, little one!” she said, looking at Isha, who floated without a hint of fear and let out a curious quack.
“I brought her this.” She held up the tiny hat. “I saw one just like it in town and couldn’t resist.”

Isha splashed her way out of the water, eyed the hat with curiosity, and pecked at the pom-pom as if giving her approval.

“I knew she’d love it!” Vi beamed. “You’re just too cute!”

Vi glanced around, expecting to see Jinx’s tuft of blue feathers, but there was no sign of her.
She frowned and turned to Ekko, who only tilted his head.

“Where’s the grumpy crow?” she asked quietly.
The owl didn’t answer—just shifted his gaze toward the willow where the nest was hidden.

Vi followed his line of sight and raised a brow.
“Ah, I see. She’s in the nest, huh?”

Deciding to take a peek, she climbed up slowly, careful not to startle her.

When Vi reached the main branch, she spotted Jinx curled up over a lump she couldn’t quite make out.
The crow watched her intently with those bright eyes of hers, not budging an inch.

“Easy there, I just wanna take a look,” Vi whispered, reaching out carefully.

Before she could even touch the edge of the nest, Jinx let out a fierce screech and pecked the back of her hand.

“Ow!—okay, okay, I get it!” Vi jerked her hand back, shaking it with a nervous laugh. “Full-time bodyguard, got it.”

Jinx stayed perfectly still, wings spread protectively over what lay beneath: a neat little row of bluish eggs.

Vi tilted her head, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
“I just wanna count them, I’m not gonna steal any…”

Jinx answered with another sharp craaak that sounded suspiciously like don’t even think about it.

With a mix of bravery and stubbornness, Vi leaned in a bit further to get a better look—
and then her eyes went wide as saucers.

“…Oh my god, girl…” she breathed, pressing a hand to her forehead.
“Two… three… four… five… six… seven, eight, nine… ten… eleven!”

She froze, mouth hanging open, and said with dramatic flair—like she was talking to a girlfriend:
“Ok, I know, I know… just let me check.”

She leaned in again, counting out loud this time:
“Oh my God, girl… you cannot have eleven babies.”

Jinx just stared back at her in silence, blinking slowly as if she didn’t understand—or didn’t care.

Vi raised an index finger, her tone mock-serious:
“I’m not allowing it. Eleven is too much.”

Jinx snapped her wings open in a sharp warning and let out a screech so loud Vi had to back off, laughing.
“Alright, alright! I’m leaving, mama crow—don’t kill me.”

When Vi climbed down from the willow, Ekko was already waiting by the water’s edge with a look that said told you so.

“Your girlfriend is terrifying,” Vi laughed, showing off the tiny scratch from the peck.

Ekko just tilted his head with a tired smile.
“Told you not to mess with her.”

Isha quacked happily in his little new hat, blissfully unaware of all the drama.

Vi glanced at the duckling and sighed.
“You guys are gonna have a big family… good luck, owl.”

Ekko let out a short huff—half amused, half resigned—as the sun began to dip behind the forest.