Elegant and enduring, cranes are the silent sentinels of the world’s wetlands, often found where the boundaries between the Material Plane and the Feywild grow thin. To many, they are symbols of longevity and vigilance, standing motionless in silver reeds like statues carved from ivory and ash. Druids believe these birds are descendants of ancient avian spirits that once preened in the gardens of the gods, and even a common crane carries a lingering trace of that primordial grace in its piercing, knowing gaze. Whether wading through mist-choked marshes or sun-dappled estuaries, the crane is a master of patient lethality, striking with a beak as sharp as a spear point. Beyond hunting, cranes perform haunting dances—spiraling displays of wings and wind that hermits claim can forecast shifts in the weave or the coming of a great calamity. A lone crane following a traveler along a riverbank is often an omen, for they are said to recognize the scent of a soul marked by destiny. A bird that refuses to take flight may be guarding a submerged entrance to a forgotten tomb or a site of ancient power. To harm one invites a lingering curse of misfortune, while a gift of fresh fish might earn a silent guide through the most treacherous mires.