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Description
In a village in a place nobody knows, in a time nobody remembers, a small tree grew overnight. Standing in the middle of a small hill, the lonely tree had some sort of shining objects glimmering off its branches. A weak ticking sound could be heard by those on the hill.
The villagers approached the tree, realizing the light was coming from golden pocket watches, dangling in the air from each of the trees branch. Instead of any leaves, the tree was showing a parade of beautiful watches on its grey bough. One of the farmers tried to take a look at a watch, but the tree drew his branches back and kept them away from the hands of the farmer. The villagers were of course shocked and intrigued by the phenomenon. Another person tried touching the watches again, but the tree grew a few meters in size, away from anyone’s reach. The people decided to leave the tree alone and got back to work, most signing it off as a miracle with no use.
In the following years, the tree kept growing fast and new watches appeared, as many as the newborns in the village. Then, on a dreaded day, a grim crow with white feathers on its stomach and wings landed on a branch of the miraculous tree. The crow started pecking a watch near it before snatching it and flying away. The son of a shepherd that was taking a nap under the tree was awakened by the crow and confused by its act of stealing, but ignored it nonetheless. That day a man died from a cold that went untreated for too long.
Time passed again and the tree grew ever-more bigger, alongside the village. And now and then a white and black crow took a watch from it. But the watches always appeared again, as the life in the village was evolving. However, people started to question the source of the crow. Every time it stole a watch, a person’s life would come to an end, and every time a baby was born, a watch appeared on the tree. The people connected the two: the watches represented the villagers’ life and the crow was stealing them. Hunters and young rascals tried killing the grim crow, hoping it would stop people from dying, but no rock or trap could hurt it. The shepherd’s son, the one who saw the first appearance of the crow, waited one night for the crow to fall asleep. And climbed the tree and reached his hand to the crow, but a cold, frightening atmosphere enveloped him. He didn’t stop however and even touched the white feathers of the animal. The crow stared at him with blank eyes, but with a weird sympathy. The bird jumped to a clock next to it, and showed it to the son. He touched and immediately felt a great weight, as if he was holding one’s life in its entirety. If too many clocks would be hanging off the tree, it would fall down under the weight and hardly ever grow back, that’s what the boy concluded.
He climbed down and told his story and, in a final note, said: “The crow and the tree aren’t a threat to anyone.” And from that day, few were the ones to try to cut the tree or hurt the crow, as their existence was yet not fully understood, but fully respected.

Note: This drawing took a little more time than expected because of many other projects overlapping. I'll update tomorrow with a story to match the drawing, Hope you like it! The morale can be interpreted as life needs death in order to go on, and that death is to be accepted as part of the cycle. Edit: I made some story modifications and other stuff

Description
In a village in a place nobody knows, in a time nobody remembers, a small tree grew overnight. Standing in the middle of a small hill, the lonely tree had some sort of shining objects glimmering off its branches. A weak ticking sound could be heard by those on the hill.
The villagers approached the tree, realizing the light was coming from golden pocket watches, dangling in the air from each of the trees branch. Instead of any leaves, the tree was showing a parade of beautiful watches on its grey bough. One of the farmers tried to take a look at a watch, but the tree drew his branches back and kept them away from the hands of the farmer. The villagers were of course shocked and intrigued by the phenomenon. Another person tried touching the watches again, but the tree grew a few meters in size, away from anyone’s reach. The people decided to leave the tree alone and got back to work, most signing it off as a miracle with no use.
In the following years, the tree kept growing fast and new watches appeared, as many as the newborns in the village. Then, on a dreaded day, a grim crow with white feathers on its stomach and wings landed on a branch of the miraculous tree. The crow started pecking a watch near it before snatching it and flying away. The son of a shepherd that was taking a nap under the tree was awakened by the crow and confused by its act of stealing, but ignored it nonetheless. That day a man died from a cold that went untreated for too long.
Time passed again and the tree grew ever-more bigger, alongside the village. And now and then a white and black crow took a watch from it. But the watches always appeared again, as the life in the village was evolving. However, people started to question the source of the crow. Every time it stole a watch, a person’s life would come to an end, and every time a baby was born, a watch appeared on the tree. The people connected the two: the watches represented the villagers’ life and the crow was stealing them. Hunters and young rascals tried killing the grim crow, hoping it would stop people from dying, but no rock or trap could hurt it. The shepherd’s son, the one who saw the first appearance of the crow, waited one night for the crow to fall asleep. And climbed the tree and reached his hand to the crow, but a cold, frightening atmosphere enveloped him. He didn’t stop however and even touched the white feathers of the animal. The crow stared at him with blank eyes, but with a weird sympathy. The bird jumped to a clock next to it, and showed it to the son. He touched and immediately felt a great weight, as if he was holding one’s life in its entirety. If too many clocks would be hanging off the tree, it would fall down under the weight and hardly ever grow back, that’s what the boy concluded.
He climbed down and told his story and, in a final note, said: “The crow and the tree aren’t a threat to anyone.” And from that day, few were the ones to try to cut the tree or hurt the crow, as their existence was yet not fully understood, but fully respected.

Note: This drawing took a little more time than expected because of many other projects overlapping. I'll update tomorrow with a story to match the drawing, Hope you like it! The morale can be interpreted as life needs death in order to go on, and that death is to be accepted as part of the cycle. Edit: I made some story modifications and other stuff