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Cedarwood
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> Cedawood didn't realize why the mother took to pecking at the branches above, and didn't considered the significance of it until the first glob of sap dropped on his head. His attention was still on the father and elder crow, "[b]Hook-face? Far better than being a straight beak! And... [i]the hell?[/i][/b]" The eagle shook his head, pausing in his sideways shimmy across the branch. But the drop that had landed on his head hadn't been flung away. Cedar shook his dial once more, much to the same result. Before he had the chance to figure out it wasn't just a persistent drop of water, the elder corvid's comment gave him immediate pause. The eagle turned sharply and raised his feathers, "[b]...I am a Haunter. And I'm not a traitor... the Guardians died out.[/b]" The chocolatey brown feathers of the eagle remained up - other than a few on his head, now plastered together by sap - as he studied the she-crow. "[b]Why?[/b]" For the moment, the eggs were forgotten.
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