As the evening sun settled behind the Rocky Mountains, a cool breeze licked at the faces of the two young boys who sat on the front porch steps, whittling. Raven Morgan, the elder, a nine-year-old, looked at his brothers notched and crooked piece of wood. You are doing a fine job, Hawk. What is it going to be? Seemingly offended, but only for a moment, Hawk gave a sideways glance and answered, Smart as you are, Raven, and you can't tell? Amused at his seven-year-old brother, who sometimes seemed older than his age, Raven smiled. Well, I have an idea what it is, but if you tell me, then Ill know if I'm right.
