A large, ragged crow on a hoard of gold coins and a crown, giving a cold side-eye, while smaller crows look up at it from the shadows

Crow collects coins.

Crow watches the masters' websites. When a human buys a thing, Crow flies the coin home and tells the masters at once. Crow does not need thanks. Crow will simply notice if there are none.

The hoard

Crow sorts every coin by how heavy it feels in the beak. The underlings carry the scraps. Crow carries the crowns.

  1. A dented bottle cap in a dim pool of light

    Scraps

    Under 50 kr

    Crumb secured. The pigeons are furious.

  2. A tarnished brass key in a pool of light

    Trinkets

    50 to 199 kr

    Masters, Crow has brought tribute. Pet Crow.

  3. An antique gold coin in a pool of light

    Shinies

    200 to 999 kr

    Big shiny. Crow hides it from the pigeons.

  4. A gold ring with a red stone in a pool of light

    Gold

    1 000 to 4 999 kr

    Crow cannot carry this alone. Crow calls the cousins.

  5. A jewelled royal crown blazing in a pool of light

    Kingdom crowns

    5 000 kr and up

    Crow is not a bird anymore. Crow is an empire.

Crow's proverbs

The old birds had sayings. Crow corrected them.

On shiny object syndrome

Crow is told: finish one thing. Crow does not finish one thing. Crow sees a glint by the river, another on a roof, a third in the pocket of a stranger who will not miss it.

The wise birds shake their heads. A sickness, they say. Shiny object syndrome. Crow calls it Tuesday.

And yet.

The bottle cap led to the key. The key led to the coin. The coin led to a ring nobody came looking for. And one grey morning, under a pile of distractions, something heavy, something golden, something with points on top.

Not every shiny thing is treasure, masters. But every treasure was once just a shiny thing that Crow refused to ignore.