As the sun set and dusk drew near, the little ones had finally had their fill of their bizarre games and were willing to settle down. Most gathered in a heap around Older Sister, listening to equally bizarre fairy tales, while a few studied their own little projects. Little Mediva had five or six figurine-sized Mini Medivas hanging from her body and ran about like a carrier mothership. Every so often, she bent down to pull up some wild grass and feed it to the little ones perched on her shoulders. Those figurine-sized Mini Medivas were just like chicks. Aside from their appearance, their habits were practically identical to birds'. When faced with the grass Little Mediva offered them, the little things actually chirped excitedly and happily gnawed on the stalks while hugging them. Their menu seemed to have expanded again, from vegetable leaves to most green plants. Based on my observations over the past two days, I had confirmed that Little Mediva even fed leaves and grass seeds to her own "children," and those Figurine Crow Gods accepted every one of those foods without complaint. Except meat. That was still strongly rejected.
This left Little Crow, who still longed for field mice, deeply disappointed.
Lilina was not interested in fairy tales either—she was a professional fairy-tale writer, and practically every fairy tale book in the house originated from her. So she had not joined the little ones. The shorty seemed to have run into some trouble. She had set a little chair beside me and sat there like a melancholy girl, elbows propped on the small round table in front of her and cheeks resting in both hands. Most eye-catching of all was the fresh, vibrant little blade of grass sprouting from her head. I had been staring at