2 Minutes. Go!

Small birds can sit on tiny branches. They are almost weightless. Soft, light feathers over hollow bones. There is a magic to it. They can be fierce, honoring their dinosaur forefathers, but they can also be kin to dust motes. They can float and hang in the air; they can use the wind to their advantage. 

The ravens outside my apartment can't sit on tiny branches. They are not light on their feet. No dust motes, the ravens. They are big and loud and they can be hell to deal with if you piss them off. Never look sideways at a magpie, a raven, a crow. They know things you will never know. 

I can't sit on small branches, and I don't have the dark magic that the ravens wield. We humans are heavy creatures, clumsy. Even the most astounding of us can't compete with most animals. We are neither strong nor fast nor blessed with razor teeth. 

We are smart, and that is enough. Even the dumbest of us can compete with most animals. Maybe not the ravens, though. 

Our brains are special. They give us the ability to destroy ourselves and take everything else with us.