Spinning, diving, circling and chasing, the two figures in the sky

darted back and forth, attempting to gain the upper hand in a battle of wing, will and wits. This clear, warm spring day had brought the fight for air supremacy to the skies above Black Rock. In the fashion of a throw-back to the silent, silver screen days, the first combatant was clad fully in blazing white while his opponent was more distinct for his absence rather than his presence, for he devoured the light around him and created a black hole against the radiant blue of the sky above. Together, they danced through the air, a dance not of partnership nor exaltation of the other. Although, together they danced, in separate did they desire outcome. Each twist and turn concealed an attempt to wrest dominance from the other. Black was larger and disadvantaged by a lack of turning grace that White held far above him. White used the speed of smaller size and appeared to bring harassment to the fore, yet when dodge may have proven better as weave or zig instead of zag, the brutal force of the larger Black contained a price to high to pay to often. With each hammer's fall of a massive blow that fell upon White, a resounding call of approval and encouragement rose from the ground and low vegetation below. Black had fans, followers or family that lay in wait for the return of their champion. Yet as White pressed home with claw and beak, a rain of vexing attacks and flurries of exasperating assaults, there were no cheering companions. There were no supporters for White this day.

One spin, another, a claw and then a beak. Another "CAW!" rose from the bushes beneath as Black drove home a savage blow. And with that, White broke free from the turmoil of the struggle and took wing toward safer skies. Black followed for only a moment, a last rake of beak across the tail feathers of White, ensuring the intrusion of his territory would not happen again so quickly. White, first dove to avoid the final insult and then flapped his wings faster to exit the arena of battle and leave this day of shame behind. The pain in his wings enough to have him think twice before another encounter with Big Black.

Black turned back to the skies above Black Rock and spun circles of reveling delight. A "CAW!" from the ground answered back with an echoing "CAW!" from the skies above; one and then another. Black turned in upon his own circling and drew his wings back for a plummeting decent. Headlong he rushed towards the ground before unfurling his wings and twisting a tight corkscrew into his free fall; showing off his prowess, Black reversed the corkscrew mid-dive, spiraling first one way and then the other. In the moment before impact, Black pulled back and blazed a path just above the tops of the shrubs where his followers had waited and watched. He sailed above their heads as the cacophony of sound grew louder. "CAW! CAW!", cried one after the other. First one circle and then another, Black held his wings outstretched and his chest puffed out. He returned to his family and friends, the champion, the winner.