I’m sort of on a bird kick right now.
I think Falcons are fascinating. There are very few predators that are at such a peak evolutionary level of perfection as the Falcon. It’s just a marvel. Falcons can hit their pray at 240 mph. That’s more than double the top speed of a Bald Eagle.
Now, that being said… I’d really love to see or write a story of a Falcon who is just in a mid-life crisis. Who has such little self worth, while at the same time being this unbelievable specimen of predatory power. An unconfident Falcon. I love that paradox. Just like a kind and loving Raven… it just seems wrong.
But people prove us wrong all the time, so why shouldn’t birds do it too?