Once there were 3 witches. 3 is the perfect number. Remember that, little Ducky.
2 of them were good witches, and one of them wished she was good. Their names were Crane, Heron, and Magpie. And what brought them together was songs.
You see, songs require a special kind of magic. Each song has a special weave; a spell of melody, meaning, and love. And Crane, Heron, and Magpie brought this magic to their songs.
Everyone knows that Magpies are good singers. Their fluty caroling is favored among many an old poet… but so were the magpie’s omens.
The first omen went just like the old rhyme says: “one for sorrow.” You see, some magpies steal their song weaves from other birds. Mimicry, they call it. And soon, Crane and Heron found that Magpie was stealing even their spells. As Crane and Heron channeled their songs into the stirring pot, Magpie stood in front of them where they could not see her. And with hidden hands, she stole their spells and wove them as her own.
She stole songs from the deer; she stole songs from the rabbits; she stole songs from the squirrels. She didn’t care who they were, just so long as she could be at the center of it all.
Being good witches, Crane and Heron didn’t want to think the worst. But they had to when they felt their own energy draining. After every song, Magpie would dart around, energized with stolen magic; while Crane and Heron could barely lift their wings.
Heron had known Magpie longer than Crane had, and Heron felt the omen the strongest. And with a little Egret at home to take care of, Heron couldn’t afford to give up anymore of her self. So Heron and Crane set out to reclaim their lost song energy.
As they began to stir the cauldron of their next song, they let Magpie stand close to the pot like she always did. They all whispered the secret song words that ignite their channeling, but this time Heron and Crane remained quiet. And when Magpie should have been chanting her song, she wasn’t.
Magpie’s face grew red, her eyes widened, and she began to scream. A scream like no other Magpie had made before. It wasn’t mimicry, just rage. She tore at the earth, she pulled her own feathers, and she did her best attempt at a curse. But nothing came out. She had screamed so much, that her voice was just a squeak. There was no power there anymore. The only mercy was for Heron and Crane to fly away and leave her in her loneliness.
Ah, but the story doesn’t end there. You remember that important number? The number 3. Well soon, Heron met the most beautiful Stork. In old stories they say that Storks bring babies; but birds don’t deserve the credit for the magic that women create.
And that’s where you come in, little Ducky. Heron and Stork wove a beautiful new song, and life emerged. Aunty Crane chanted an orb of protection as they welcomed you into this world, and little Egret couldn’t wait to tell you all the sister secrets. And now their song weaves are more powerful than ever.
Casey's Shadow Cat Imaginarium 
I love this magical little story you wove, Casey. It came at exactly the right time for me. I just finished a project with a small committee of women and there was one that could definitely be called Magpie. Although so much of the project went well, the things that didn’t all stemmed from actions or misdirections by Magpie. She stole energy from the committee members as well as volunteers who came to assist on the day of the event. Why, I’ve been wondering. Just like your Magpie in this tale, I can only surmise it was because she craves being at the center of things. Thanks for this insight, Casey. I can now move on and try to remember to be aware of this in the future.