Black Shuk watched the birds skimming across the surface of the pond. There were two versions of each one – the real birds – and then the dead, black reflection that rushed up to join with its living partner for a fraction of a second, as they dipped their beaks into the water. He was resting amongst the reeds at the water’s edge. They grew tall and straight in this part of the country and created the perfect place in which to hide. He had been running for most of the day and had decided to rest here and sleep. The freedom of birds had always interested him. Their world was fraught with danger, of course. They looked carefree and beautiful when on the wing but theirs was a perilous existence. They were constantly scavenging for food and scraps. Then there was the threat of predators. On th
