Warm winds of January swept across the tropical shores of the Gulf of Mexico, bringing moisture and heat. The sea breeze blew westward, along the Cat Owl River, for seventy to eighty miles, reaching the southern ancestral land of the Vastek people, the prosperous riverside city-state, Crow City Papantla.
A few gray crows circled in the sky, overlooking familiar stockades, villages, and temples below, along with seven unfamiliar sleek large ships. Over a hundred Vastek craftsmen, bare-chested, were gathered at the edges of the longships, holding black earthen pots and busily engaged in some task.
Moments later, a curious crow lowered its height and perched atop the mast of a longship. Then, with its round eyes glancing about, it let out a satisfied caw aimed at the black Wolf Banner fluttering on the mast.
"Caw! Caw caw!"
"Huh?"
Hearing the call, the old militia Chiwaco looked up and saw the crow standing proudly on the mast. A broad smile spread across the old militia's face.
