If you've got the time for a short short story, I would love your feedback

**Fellowship of Crows**

As the saying goes, the fellowship of crows' feathers inked black as shadows, compose a caw cataclysmic to finches. Which is, what fishes once dreamed. Hardly tadpole sized and gained a gleam to one day walk with trees. But the one thing fishes lack is knees.

“No matter for me!”

exclaims the young fishy.

Hardly a task for a fish with no degree yet a plea to succeed may surpass a PhD. Now i know you know a Band comes in three, so may I introduce, a young ducky. Equipped with a body feathery and legs with webbed feet which would soon be the medium for their first meet. A nudge was all it took, a grudge was never booked. Mere luck’s grace, their way crows never looked, hiding in nooks to learn what the world took. Yet one lesson was overlooked, and it was how to spot a crook.

“What happens to you in the snow?” asks the crow

“Same as you, though my limbs don't turn blue” replied the mallard

“though i have heard beyond the herd’s pointed path lay rest a sea. There, a fish may be, having not one but two knees.”

“Impossible!” exclaimed the twain, yet in one that thought remained. With winter on it’s wain, soon even the fish knew little time remained.

but even still, during their last meeting, one last question to the duck could not be missing.

“Feathered friend with lower limbs that bend, won't you tell me before you say bye, to which direction do you fly?”

“Simple enough, though be warned the journey’s rough, if you can beat the heat, you’ll find me in the east”

No further words were deemed required for the exchange.

In the months that followed, Fish began, with his own group, to the east. Likeminded gilded gilled battalions that happen to flatten any seabed unlucky enough to inhabit him or his men. Believed to be guided by the starfish of Bethlehem, yet paradoxically believed there was no god to condemn.

As the saying goes, the fellowship of fishes’ missions of ambition transition into acquisitions. Resulting in entire Coral reefs repurposed as prisons.

At the center of what is essentially an armed battalion,

lies a fish with a vision.

To one day walk with trees. After nearly a year of “travel”, he finally meets a fish with 2 knees, yet when the fish saw the other, he wondered how he could miss, the 2 knee fish he sought was truly a tuna fish.

Tricked by a crow all those months ago, fish’s ambition began to slow. And although he had indeed traveled east through the backflow, He lamented over having not even one big toe.

Huddled below, in an old forgotten borough, our catfish was surrounded by murder of crows.