Finding Tunnels, Chapter 1

The birds weren't black. They weren't blue, either, but the colors were so closely blended that its shade was best described as midnight. A single white mark ran undisturbed down its back, creating a startling mark of contrast. This bird, on its own, was a specimen of rarity only seen from time to time. It was rumored that if one saw a midnight dove, they were to have good fortune for at least a year. 'Just silly rumors,' most would say.
But to see a midnight dove with another exact replica of its kind- as Ava Hart was now doing- was a phenomenon unknown to most, with the exception of very few. It was also the foretelling of an event that only happened once per decade- the Festival of Dances.
And yet... there they were- midnight bodies, white stripes- sitting casually on the outstretched bough of an oak as if they didn't quite know the significance of their companionship...

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