Crow was alone. So he brought form and shape to the Earth. From the Earth’s belly creatures emerged, swarming, swimming, and walking each according to its type.
But still Crow was lonely. So he played a trick, holding in his beak a shiny pebble, round as the sun and smooth as a lake. The Earth wanted the shiny thing and grew a grasping hand. Quick as a tornado, Crow seized the wrist, pulling until the hand stretched into an arm. Twisting until it rose from the mud, he made a torso. The mud sat up, looked around, and said “Wow!”
Fancy sharpening your skill with writing exercises? The Scrivener’s Forge offers a new exercise every month to hone one aspect of your craft. Take a look at this month’s exercise on character and world-building