(Part Two)
air. The forest loomed dark and foreboding, while the moonlight danced across the surface of the lake, casting silvery reflections that flickered like the stars above. Her heart raced as panic surged through her—where could Ruky be? Had her words somehow transformed him? She frantically called out, “Ruky! Ruky! Where are you?” but the only response was the whispering wind rustling through the leaves.
Desperation clawed at her heart, and she dashed into the coolness of the night, her bare feet padding softly on the grass. “Ruky! Little Crow!” she cried, her voice echoing through the stillness. As she ventured towards the forest’s edge, she felt a strange pull, a magnetic force drawing her deeper into the shadows. The branches above twisted and turned, creating eerie shapes against the moonlit sky, and she strained her ears for any sound of her brother.
Suddenly, she heard a faint but unmistakable call, “Cor! Cor!” The sound sent a surge of relief through her, and she followed the voice, each step both trepidacious and determined. She stumbled upon a small clearing where the moonlight spilled out like a shimmering blanket. There, among the tall grasses, she saw him—a small figure with wings, fluttering as if trying to take flight. Ruky's laughter, that pure, innocent sound, rang out in the night. But it echoed differently, with a lilt that was both familiar and strange.
“Ruky! Is that you?” Cora gasped, half in disbelief.
“Yes, Cor! Look, I’m a crow!” he called, his eyes gleaming with delight. He flapped his little arms, and in that moment, she saw it was true. Her brother had transformed into a tiny bird, the raven-black feathers glistening in the moonlight.
“Oh, Ruky, what happened?” she cried, running to him, overwhelmed with an array of emotions—fear, joy, sorrow. This was all her fault; she had wished for peace and quiet, and the universe had answered in a way she never intended.
“I wanted to see the stars, Cor! They’re so beautiful!” he chirped, fluttering above her head. “Up here, I can see everything!”
Cora’s heart sank as she realized the weight of her earlier wish. She reached out, longing to touch him, to hold him close again. “But you belong with me, Ruky! Come back! You’re my little brother, not a bird!” Tears streamed down her cheeks as the enormity of their bond crashed over her like a wave.
“But I am a crow now, Cor!” he replied, darting playfully around her, leaving trails of laughter in the night air. “A crow can fly free! I love my tree!” He landed on a nearby branch, pecking at the leaves with delight and displaying the unrestrained joy of his transformation.
“Oh, Ruky…” she whispered, her heart heavy and conflicted. “I want you back. I didn’t mean it. I just want my little brother, no matter how noisy, no matter how different. I love you just as you are.”
At her words, the air shimmered, and slowly, Ruky began to glow. Cora held her breath, hopeful yet unsure. The light enveloped him in warmth, growing brighter until it burst like fireworks across the sky. In that fleeting moment, the enchantment shattered, and there stood Ruky, back in his familiar form, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked.
“Cor!” he laughed, throwing his arms around her. “Did you see me?”
“Never do that again!” she exclaimed, hugging him tightly, her voice breaking with emotion. “You had me scared to death! I’ll never wish you away again, Ruky. I promise. You’re my little Crow, forever.”
“Forever!” he echoed gleefully, his smile broad and heartening. The tension that had once hung heavily in the air melted away, replaced by the warm glow of their bond. From that day forward, Cora embraced the noise and chaos that Ruky brought into her life, for she understood that even in the moments of discord, love was the greatest peace of all. And as for Ruky, well, he would always be her little crow, with laughter that could fill the darkest corners of the forest and joy that sparkled like the stars above.