Tributes of the Fallen

It begins with a flash of monochrome—the magpies are always first. Bold and restless, they dance around the fallen deer, their chatter calling the forest to wake. Soon, the sky answers. The red kite sweeps low, the buzzard claims its perch, and the obsidian court of ravens and crows descends. From my hidden lens, I witness this unfolding hierarchy: a symphony of wings and will, where the smallest heralds the arrival of the great.