Migration Treason

Thunder shook the cornfields of the Sinclair estate just as a murder of crows descended upon the front steps. The eldest crow stepped forward and addressed the group. "Tonight we make history," she said.

“Everyone caws about the weather, but no one ever does anything about it.” The murder chuckled politely. “And that’s just what Big Weather wants. But I know a human scientist who has shown that the connection between wing flaps and meteorology is causation, not just correlation!”

"CAW-CAW-Causal reasoning!!!!" The chorus of approving cackles rippled from crow to crow. "If what the human scientist says is true, then it is up to us, dear birds, to finally stop climate change! Quick, my feathered friends! To the Gulf of Mexico! By our powers combined!

They flew together until they reached the town of Gatorgulch, just south of Naples. They linked wing to wing, and to the amazement of local folk, performed a magical spell. As light filtered through their wings, temperatures started to dwindle and a strange smell arose.

The smell of goose eggs filled the air as the sky darkened. Feathers blotted out the sun as sulfur burned the nostrils of people and gators alike. The small Florida town was bewitched and bedazzled by the goose glamour.

People choked on the acrid taste, coughing until their throats grew hoarse. They reached out to wash down all the dregs from the air, but even the ocean sloshed around with murky depths. Soon, everyone in the once-sunny Florida town could only speak with honks, or turned mute.