Four sagely birds convened at the tallest tree in Vogel Valley, each carrying a branch from their respective homeland. After exchanging a minimum of words they laid down their gifts, completing a magnificent nest. Before the ceremony was complete a huge shadow engulfed them all.

Sara strode up the hill. Malik struggled to keep up with her. She reached the crest of the hill, slightly out of breath, perspiration beading on her brow. She lifted one hand to shield her eyes from the sun. On the other side of the hill, Sara saw the source of the strange noise.

It was a dark starry night when Lauren and Max ventured into the woods. They had been looking forward to this all week. It was the only night the Sporkle Comet would be visible and only for ten minutes. Not to repeat again for many lifetimes.

UGH why do muffins smell so good, she thought as she passed through the kitchen. This diet was going to be the death of her. She looked at her diet app, only 400 calories left and it was only 2pm. This was going to be a long day.

This weekend’s honored guests had traveled from near and far to be here tonight. The last couple arrived just before midnight; they approached the looming gothic doors, carrying nothing but one backpack between them, and knocked three times with determination.

Rebecca nervously cut the turkey with her brand new carving knife. Once finished with the light meat she allowed herself to momentarily gaze down the packed banquet table at familiar faces. After a second or two she wiped the sweat from her brow and returned to the bird.

Her toes tingled as she moved closer to the edge of the cliff. Heights had never been her strong suit. “Harold, is that you?” A hand reached over the cliff drop off.