Читать книгу The Sand Sifter - Julie Lawson - Страница 6

“Hear that ruckus out there?” the old man asked. It was the cry of a raven. “Some believe that’s the one that started it all. Life, I mean.”

Today the old man was sifting the misty grays, the sand of myths on rugged sea coasts where the raven had created the world.

“Raven. That’s the one. He was a spirit, you see, and could change his shape. Why, he could be a baby or an old man or even a spruce needle! But most often he was Raven— sly and cunning, with a gift for mischief! And one day he made the Great Chief of the Sky Kingdom so angry he was sent away for good.