The cold, humid air enveloped Grackle’s body as he crawled out from his nest under a fallen tree. The moonlight reflected off the bright white markings developing on his face, pulling his attention for a moment and startling him. The air was cool and heavy, and it crept under his feathers to make him shiver. He wasn’t used to the chill. He had grown accustomed to the muggy hot weather, the searing heat near the fires, the lava spilling into the sea and sending up scalding steam.
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