“I thought birds spent the winter in the land of the dead,” said Gerta. “Aurk!” He gave her a suspicious look. “Who told you that?” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Everyone, I guess.” “Nobody I know,” said the raven. “I’ve certainly never been to the land of the dead.” He considered this. “Maybe sparrows. Sparrows always seem like they know more than they’re telling.” He flew to a fencepost and fluffed his beard briefly.
